Cannibal's Insomnia

When the music is cut, and the last drink in your hand is quickly poured down your throat while its glass is left on the bar?

What happens after? Knowing that this was the last night of operations? That this gathering spot you’ve spent countless hours in. Meeting many new friends, launching many new fascinations, celebrating many little victories and mourning as many losses. Where do the hours go now? What hours are you left holding awkwardly?

You knew this place isn’t sustainable. You knew it’d end eventually, but that was always some night in the future. A night you couldn’t postpone. The managers tried to run the ship but the constant revolving door of new owners expected this place to be things it was never meant to. To be anything besides what its patrons called home.

>”that’s not paranoia, it’s social anxiety “

No bitch, I truly believe that people who are close to me are assigned to me in a large scale murky ass conspiracy and I have to convince myself that is not the case every single day.

>”that’s not a hallucination, everyone has an inner voice. That’s called thinking sweetie :) “

1: Aphantasia is a thing, so not “everyone”

2: having my inner voice constantly drowned out with a cacophony of salt, static and shouting that bleeds into the outside hearing isn’t “thinking” sweaty.

>”are you really delusional or do you just have a wild imagination?”

Like, are you planning to rob me? Recruit me to your cult? Sacrifice me to your god? Use my likeness on the punk’d reboot? Trap me in a sadist’s pain pit? Frame me in a high stakes federal crime?

First four days of inktober 2023

Crystal meth mouth.

Decay exists as an extrant form of life

Moon’s haunted

My brain : *devastates my ambition, makes my nightmares follow me, refuses to reuptake anything it should, yells at me, illuminates the horrors others don’t see, scrambles my vocabulary, forgets everything and wakes me up late in the afternoon. Makes the act of living nearly insufferable but not bad enough to do anything about it, gets addicted to things it shouldn’t and shoots random shocks down my arms and legs.

Me: that’s all you got? Pff. Bogus. I thought you could do amazing things..

My brain : “I know obscure metal band genres, the birthday of everyone you’ve met, pseudoscientific psychology studies, occult practices, drug combinations, social media etiquette and philosophy “

Me : can’t you know useful things. Like money management or the ability to return e-mails or phone calls.

My brain : that’s boring. I can do this though . * full house theme song on repeat for hours*

The earth isn’t round.

The earth is a vampire.

The earth isn’t hollow.

The earth isn’t full.

The earth isn’t on fire.

The earth is a cell.

The earth isn’t heaven.

The earth isn’t hell.

The earth is our mother.

The earth is our keeper.

The earth is a turtle’s shell.

The earth is a bitch.

The earth is a mud ball.

The earth is an oasis.

The earth is a space rock.

The earth is a water cup.

The earth is a hell world.

The earth is a garden.

The earth is everything.

The earth is all of this.

The earth doesn’t exist.

The earth doesn’t like us.

The earth keeps us alive.

The earth allows us to thrive.

The earth is perspective.

None are perfect.

None are mistakes.

All are incomplete

Assuming what you project outwards in the authentic you and not a construct based on what you assume others think you are.

Just be.

Allow others to be.

Do not force others to not be.

Do not allow others to demand what you don’t want to be.

Do not force others to be

what they don’t want themselves to be.

Only be who you naturally know how to be.

Knowing who to be is not a question to be answered by you, me or anybody.

To be yourself truly, fearlessly and completely is to be one with the G-d head.