Fatal hilarity...


"My hands have never talked to me since I am not a madman, you see? However, they await to be quenched. The face paint has nothing to do with how I make decisions, yet it can have an obstreperous result. I see my knifes as redemption & a tool to spread smiles all over. Gravity & madness are just as alike as my nemesis & I. Purple suits me. I can tell this mirror is quite afraid of me. Time to go..."

"Oh, hee-hee, aha. Ha, ooh, hee, ha-ha, ha-ha."



Sail to the Moon.
Brush the Cobwebs out of the Sky.


How hard can demons be fought after having gotten first depressed at the age of 6?
Those long trips from gramma's house to where I lived drove me out of the commonest thoughts a child could have. I always feared dark areas - whether rooms or halls, streets or spaces under my bed. There was hardly a time when we left early for my parents dwelling, so the place where we took our public transport was rather gloomy. I closed my eyes to avoid the visions of unknown people passing by. However, darkness lay as well under my eyelids. Death, as uncertain as it has always seemed, was usually the first thing to pop. The religious version of it, which began being presented to me since I was real little, never made sense to me. I felt a deep void & found no explanation for what could happen to me after dying. I felt quite afraid. I tended to feel depressed after every single commute. Life appeared short in spite of being such a young kid.
The flow of alienation or angst never stopped going to & fro. People praised skills & grades at school. Someone dared saying I could be a genius & needed any sort of challenge to keep up to some expectations due to my 'intelligence.' I always asked myself if there was a bigger challenge than dealing with this unique mood of mine. One I know told me she embraced her being different. To me, it used to be such a burden that I once wished I were ordinary. Later on, I reached up for my singularity & stuck to it, but the drama which came from my ups & downs remained.
Years through secondary & high school & a first job passed by & I never stopped becoming depressed. Twice was I told to rely on tranquilizers & hardly did I take that seriously. Three years of constant burning did not tear my stubborn appeal for life. Somehow, various albums I ran into infused optimism & a hope for what I used to believe in could come back & set appropriately to never be removed again.
[Hey KidA...]
I stayed neither sunken nor afloat, just by the partially dark part of the 'sea.' The haunt of 'not-knowing-what' which accompanies the absence of light lost strength, yet it constantly called my name. One time, I gave myself to someone eventhough there was no forseeable fortunate consequence. I will not regret I did [priceless tiny moment which cannot be undone] New fears rose when I found my heart cracked [or scratched, or slashed...I just don't know] on a note left on my lower bunk bed.
How easily can demons be fought after having gotten first depressed at the age of 6?
Nowadays solitude drives my evenings every now & then, darkness smiles back at me while trying to mock the moon, types of notes flood my brain & paranoia+sarcasm ride me away.
Oh, yeah...I have given myself to someone else.
[Hey KiddA...I am so in love]

Demons of sand, but demons at the end.



'I am glued just in case I crack out'
Silly torment perhaps, but torment at the end. What was not won't ever be. Not anymore. Experience matches not. Hope that patience will.
Whiny little kid do not blow things up.
Time goes by holding hands with paranoia. Trust is the crop which should be kept growing. Trust thyself. You already trust in her. Love for temper. Love for one whose passion is as high as cirruses. Love for character.
If said by Julio. Invalid if, never-thought-of if. Knowing what is wanted tastes strong now.
Last time, giving yourself occurred even with no forseeable fortunate consequence. However, you did. Priceless tiny moment which cannot be undone. Dragged yourself. Whether there was a reason or not to such pain, the soul & belief remained. Dubiety is human. So is permanence. So is find.
Wondering now if it was an actual crack.
Or just a scratch.
Or most unlikely, a complete slash.
Finger in mouth, you looked around. Real hard, you understand. Silent at times. Swearing perhaps.
What would be the answer if I asked, 'do you believe this is your time'?
Fear is human.
So are you, child.
Blank screens mean nothing, give nothing.
Closed eyes. Constant singing.
It has never been easy to control these chemicals. Nevertheless, chance of so falls short for there is proof of feasibility. Not-previously-encountered phenomena can be taxing. So, without trying, leave things passed by.
Notes of enjoyment & beyond.
Way beyond, ain't it?
Glued just in case there is cracking out.


'I am fused just in case I blow out'
The thing is that, despite paranoia, uncertainty & unawareness, I believe myself capable of enduring some things which could devastate this re-encountered soul. Obviously enough, what I attempt making clear here might be full of bare predictions since there is no actual way I can precisely tell how I will react. Nevertheless, the recently acquired acknowledgement of how things can go on gives some clue.
My previous experience won't necessarily match what is about to come, but I could be smart enough to once more remain alive. Someone told me once I have already blown out twice. My unawareness leaves doubt although I trust such person.



I feel no more like an accident waiting to happen.
Eitherway, I sing there there.


"Immerse your soul in love"

Doubting of a soul. Hope of nots. No heaven. No fiery yet enjoyable hell. No sin to fear or avoid. No worries about paranormality under my bed. No fear of what might come.

Then just feeling like ash.

Chemicals bouncing at the notes. Secretions ruling anger. Atoms interconnecting atoms to fill voids. Molecules morphing feelings.

Paths to an indubitably cynic ego. Life sarcasm. Simply as 'larger than life.'

Insistent doubts. Passages which make one tremble, tunes which draw tears, images which swell the insides. Hopes of being wrong. Long queues of dreams.

Then love.

Ravaged shaky doubt.

Tulips & whales.


I immerse my soul in love...