Passion

Life is real

My heart is here and I am longing to be with you floating on the surface of the liquid heaven made of tears and passionate kisses.

Highly Sensitive Creature

My eyes

Crystal clear tears streaming down my face. Im bursting with emotions of joy, sadness and confusion. I perceive everything with double strengths of reception. It’s a curse and a blessing matted together in a bucket of universal existence.

My Concrete Shelter

Life is real, My eyes, Surreal thoughts, Uncategorized

The wine made of fermented grapes with a note of decadence tastes good with a bittersweet chunk of ice cold sorrow. I’m sipping the elixir of sadness while sitting at the oblong charcoal table waiting for the purple skulls to arrive. Purple skulls have one decaying body and 6 heads multiplying by 666. Each of them represents a painful experience and chaos, there is one head among them sticking out bravely, it’s made of a crimson crystal clear material which was dug from the deepest reachable point of the earth therefore it is indestructible. The skull in the middle holds all the positivity and decent memories which has taken place while stomping on the ground. An optimist would say- the unstained beauty of life. I stand up impatiently waiting for my friend to arrive, bored, I reach for a knife and tear into pieces holy books I have been collecting over the years in my strenuous attempt to find a golden key to happiness. They belong to multiple flocks. I tear them apart, shredding them into thin rumpled pieces, I do in a rush to save myself more time to enjoy the last moments of self- pity before the arrival of my dear friend. I hear repetitive knocking at the massive metal door of my ivory suffocated grey concrete shed in the middle of the forest which never has been found or discovered. There are trees, bushes and overgrown weed in the meadow, my so called temple is in the middle of the swamp, so it’s well protected and separated from the rest of the area. I rush to open the door, the force radiating from the skulls hits me, I can’t comprehend it as its of unknown source but I fully embrace it. I leave my concrete shelter and occasionally appear among other human beings with my wisdom made of pieces of life experiences.

A Crimson Razor Blade

Surreal thoughts

In my dream, I was attached to a crimson razor blade, I had used it to commit suicide in order to get into purgatory to hang out with my relatives and friends. Each time, I had miraculously resurrected my remains from the dead by running away from the light in the tunnel. I had also worked with my dear sharp friend to relieve the anger and fear. I must admit, it was very easy to use, a little malicious bastard knew how to kill the pain instantly through breaking the surface of skin tissue, going straight to the core of a problem.

What happened to the blood, it must have spurted all over the place? ‘No’, the manipulative moron replied- ‘Your blood was drained off to avoid any unnecessary mess in my decaying shed. You have become an obedient creature who is going to live under my conditions….’

I don’t know, I start to panic,

What to do?

What to do? Mum, help me?

I wake up drenched in sweat. Am I afraid of mental pain which never goes away, solitude, or eternal unhappiness?

I pledge to flout convention, reject tradition, and dwell in my own world.