The Perfect Illusion

I thought about it while I had water pouring down on me in a dark-lit, light brown-tiled room. Only thing, it's not a room where you see beds and posters and all. It's a room within a room, with a mirror and a bowl where you look down into every morning you get out of bed, which is not in that room.

It was this urgency in me, to remember what I just thought of in that dark place. I kept murmuring it to myself, like a mantra, to make sure I didn't forget it. Such was this urgency in me I had to speed up what I was doing. It wasn't much of an urgency, when I look back at it now. It was more like desperation to remember it because, so many times I've been in this situation where something just pops into my head like popcorn out of it's kernel, and I struggle to remember it. I struggle to devise a method to remember. I've thought of keeping a pen and notepad in that room, but paper and water don't really go too well together, especially when I'm all wet, literally, with water dripping from all around me. The last thing I'd want to write on would be paper.

Bloody corny, it still doesn't say what I thought about in that dark room.


About what I thought of in that dark room, it's quite, dark really.

About the mental trauma, that's the mental drama, that is the mental notes, I've been keeping in my mental coat. It might not make sense. It never would. Like how you were once seeing it, and then it disappears right before your eyes.
I may be attracted to someone. I may not know if it's true. You might get this theme, cause it is about you.


Bloody corny, it says something though. Something corny.

Jug

My head's screaming don't do it don't. My eyes are on the verge of giving up on me. But still, I know it'll be worth it. Cause that's what coming here's all about. The heavy head and drooping vision-givers. I don't think it will change. Not for now at least. Not now no.

The night gets quieter as the clock's hour hand depress, movement only possible with the help of the second hand. Together it works, hand-in-hand. Literally.


I've not been a happy camper lately. Warm humid nights, tossing and turning in bed, having real surreal experiences. It's not been an easy time for me, and my dreams reflect it. Things have not been calm for me, everything's so chaotic and messy and noisy and rude and filthy and rude and noisy and chaotic, everything's so. My mind's been a train-wreck. It could have been a plane-wreck, or a car-wreck. It could have been so many things, but I'm just sticking to trains this time round. Crossing out train-wreck in my list right, now.

All jokes aside though things have really been damp for me. It's been a real challenge keeping my mind clean and clear. It's been clouded, affected by external factors. I think the external factors thing bothers me. Shows that I'm weak mentally. I don't like that. Time to stand up for myself I guess, I've been bowing too much that I've forgot who and when to really bow to. It's like an involuntary movement nowadays. And that's not good.


I've been thinking a lot lately, about myself and my actions. I guess it's all too natural for my to look at meself when things aren't right. I'm my harshest critic, yet at times I really wonder if I have anything at all to do with the situation. &When I look around me, and look at the people near me, it's proof that at times I really ain't at fault, and that others are having a bad time too, and that I'm caught in the middle of it.
I really do wonder if other people see things the way I do. Cause if that's the case the world would be a very nice place to live in. Special in some sense I shall not say, but different at least I would. Different from the majority of course, yet I know there's a community filled with people similar to me. It's just not that easy to spot them. I say from experience.

Truth be told I enjoy doing a lot of things by myself. At times I do wonder if it's everything. I'd say no, but still, there's loads of things I enjoy doing when I'm with myself. Maybe that's the reason I'd want to live somewhere that's not noisy and populated. I don't mind these places but my picture of home is a peaceful quiet town that's safe. It does make me wonder if it's to such an extent where I do not need others with me. Again, I'd say no. There are some things I like doing with others too. Not too many people, just a handful, or sometimes just one.

It's been a real chunk, but hopefully it gets digested by the morning. Or afternoon. Or evening. Whichever suits you best. Whichever fits you best.

Deep Hull

The irony of not being here is that, when I'm away I've got tons and tons of material in my head. Like small excerpts, little sayings pebble-like inspirations. Some make me smile in glee. But when I finally get to sit down here, and this can be like a half hour gap, my mind just goes,"Okay, so what we were thinking about again?"

This place is really magical though. Cause I get to just drain myself, creative juices oozing out of every nook and cranny in me. This includes the wounds.

I've got this splitting pain in my main processor's container. And it's been there for about a week now I guess. Plus the red of life in the water-based gel I've been expelling out orally has been at it again. It's the splitting pain though that's make me cringe.


The whole of last week, that week starting from Friday, has most probably been the most painful for me. An excruciating ordeal I had to go through. It might be made much of, but it has been hard for me to comprehend. It's always been a challenge for me to analyse my feelings. Maybe it's because I think of the "correct" way to react to situations. I used to do it a lot last time. I've begun to realise lately that sometimes I can't really control the emotions in me. Cause suppressing 'em makes things worse for me. And being one who's flooding with emotions in me, that's hardly the recommended thing to do. It's been hard though it really has. It's been a struggle for me lately.

I do think that whatever I've gone through, it certainly adds more colour in me, contrast too. I've always spoken about this depth thing, where depth gives someone a more, deeper look so to speak. It adds more layers to someone, making them more dimensional. More, real I guess. That's why I have never been a fan of plastic surgery. There's a reason why it's called plastic you know.

I have an appreciation for all things natural. That's the reason why I'm a nature person. I'm fascinated with living in the mountains, or on a mountain-top home, or near the sea; views that take my breath away, views that haven't been messed about by my species, not yet at least. That sounds sad.
Partly because it's much quieter there. Downstairs' a mess that's been artificially created.

&I keep thinking of the 2 years of my life that is being stolen away from me. I really do think it's one of the most unforgivable sins, stealing someone's life away. Ask people in captivity, I'm certain their lives are much worse, but it's the same concept. And I do think it's something I'm gonna try avoiding in the future, but for now, obsessing about this won't help my cause. It's all about putting my head down and finishing it. I've got my hands tied behind my back, but I'm getting the rope closer to that lamp that'll burn it off.

"Oceanic"

Just douse me in a pool of art.
Cause I'm getting obsessed about it.
Anything.
Especially noir
and indie
and strings
and soothing vocals.
Cause I'm going crazy.
Noir Noah No Ah.
That might be Jr.'s name.

&You know what I think of preachers? "You hold a stick of cigarette in your hand while preaching the name of God." That's what I think of them. Too bad there isn't a mirror in front of them. No conscience, that's what the mirror works as.


Mistakes are always easier made. Learning from it is harder. The case for many, including me. I just hope they do learn from it. That's the best I can do.