In any case, around that time of March 2010 to around June (I think), I thought everything sucked shit and I should kill myself and got depressed and hipsterfag, so here's some stuff I wrote during that time.
NOW, I SEE THIS WORLD WITH MY EYES WIDE OPEN.
or something
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Code
The Wall of Pain
I climb this wall
This wall of pain
Again and again
I pass over it
And then turn around
And climb it again
Each time I put my hand out
My fingers are bitten
Each time I lift my foot
My soles are stabbed
Each time I look up
My mind is crushed,
Because I climb this wall
This wall of pain
And I can’t stop
Because there is no end
To the wall of pain.
I climb this wall
This wall of pain
Again and again
I pass over it
And then turn around
And climb it again
Each time I put my hand out
My fingers are bitten
Each time I lift my foot
My soles are stabbed
Each time I look up
My mind is crushed,
Because I climb this wall
This wall of pain
And I can’t stop
Because there is no end
To the wall of pain.
-
Code
Paradise
Walking through the streets of Paradise. Smiling up at the sky. Glad, 'cause I've got gun in hand and victims at sides. Look around, and see, happy faces, joyful faces. Imaginary people. People who don't, in reality, exist. 'Cause they're happy, and I don't know "happy." Just hate for these plastic people. That's all I know; hate and misery. So, that's why I heft my gun, my black, shooting stick of peace. Shotgun diplomacy.
And now there's blood on the streets of Paradise. Smiling down at the rivers of blood. 'Cause I f*cking hate these illusions, these mocking ghosts of desire. Desire, of which I have much of, but right now, mostly of death and destruction. And in my hand, my instrument of them, an apparatus of science to pull back the false curtains, the lies, and reveal the truth. There's only hate and misery, and I've in my mind the desire to share that singular truth. Hate and misery, death and destruction.
Corpses litter the streets of Paradise, rotting piles of flesh. There's only rot and decay anyway in this world. Here and now, I share the pestilence with the imaginary people of Paradise, 'cause that's all there is to existence; rot and decay into stagnating pools of flesh and blood. Dead by the touch of the bullet, the kiss from my gun. I love the rot and decay, so I share it amongst the plastic people of Paradise. I f*cking hate lies and liars. And these fake abominations before me are both. A kiss upon the forehead, leave a bloody mark, from the barrel of my instrument of death.
I'm not on the streets of Paradise. I'm in Hell, and I'm bringing the saving truth to the masses, the blinded masses, and I'm stealing away the false curtains from their eyes. I'll bring rot and decay to this stagnant world, and it's happening now.
Hate and misery upon the false Paradise; it's f*cking Hell, you see? But you don't see. 'Cause Paradise doesn't exist; Hell is existence. Now, the let the touch of the bullet relieve you of the hate and misery, the rot and decay.
There's death and destruction in Paradise, and now it's f*cking Hell.
Walking through the streets of Paradise. Smiling up at the sky. Glad, 'cause I've got gun in hand and victims at sides. Look around, and see, happy faces, joyful faces. Imaginary people. People who don't, in reality, exist. 'Cause they're happy, and I don't know "happy." Just hate for these plastic people. That's all I know; hate and misery. So, that's why I heft my gun, my black, shooting stick of peace. Shotgun diplomacy.
And now there's blood on the streets of Paradise. Smiling down at the rivers of blood. 'Cause I f*cking hate these illusions, these mocking ghosts of desire. Desire, of which I have much of, but right now, mostly of death and destruction. And in my hand, my instrument of them, an apparatus of science to pull back the false curtains, the lies, and reveal the truth. There's only hate and misery, and I've in my mind the desire to share that singular truth. Hate and misery, death and destruction.
Corpses litter the streets of Paradise, rotting piles of flesh. There's only rot and decay anyway in this world. Here and now, I share the pestilence with the imaginary people of Paradise, 'cause that's all there is to existence; rot and decay into stagnating pools of flesh and blood. Dead by the touch of the bullet, the kiss from my gun. I love the rot and decay, so I share it amongst the plastic people of Paradise. I f*cking hate lies and liars. And these fake abominations before me are both. A kiss upon the forehead, leave a bloody mark, from the barrel of my instrument of death.
I'm not on the streets of Paradise. I'm in Hell, and I'm bringing the saving truth to the masses, the blinded masses, and I'm stealing away the false curtains from their eyes. I'll bring rot and decay to this stagnant world, and it's happening now.
Hate and misery upon the false Paradise; it's f*cking Hell, you see? But you don't see. 'Cause Paradise doesn't exist; Hell is existence. Now, the let the touch of the bullet relieve you of the hate and misery, the rot and decay.
There's death and destruction in Paradise, and now it's f*cking Hell.
-
Code
Entertainment
Entertainment, enter amusement
Playing a game, finding a ditty
A passing moment, the remark that is witty
Every moment ecstasy, every day abandonment
But looking back now
It was all
Really
Really
Boring.
Entertainment, enter amusement
Playing a game, finding a ditty
A passing moment, the remark that is witty
Every moment ecstasy, every day abandonment
But looking back now
It was all
Really
Really
Boring.
-
Code
I Feel Like Sh*t
I made this ‘cause I felt like sh*t. I still do. ([name], since I may as well savour the narcissism. F*ck you.)
I feel like sh*t.
I’m not too sure WHY I feel like sh*t. But I do.
I have an idea as to WHY I feel like sh*t.
It might have something to do with self-insignificance.
Perhaps I feel insignificant? I don’t really think so.
Perhaps I feel ignored? Maybe.
Perhaps I feel like I’m a sh*tface? Yea, probably.
Why?
Probably because of my failing health.
My failing grades.
My failing psychological state, failing mental state.
Feel like sh*t.
‘Cause I’ve made myself apart from others? Yea.
‘Cause I hate others? Yea.
I hate myself because I hate others. Yea.
I hate myself because I hate myself. Yea.
I hate everything else? Not really.
I still feel like sh*t.
I’ve been treating my friends badly because I’ve been feeling like sh*t.
I feel like sh*t because I’ve been treating my friends badly.
So I feel like sh*t.
And I feel like sh*t because I’m treating my family terribly.
And I treat my family terribly because I feel like sh*t.
I don’t care because I feel like sh*t, but I feel like sh*t because I don’t care.
I feel like sh*t because I can’t explain why I feel like sh*t.
And I feel like sh*t because I don’t know why I feel like sh*t.
Because now I think I feel like sh*t
Because I am sh*t
‘Cause I’ve already lost my f*cking mind and I feel like sh*t
All the time
Like shit.
(P.S.
I probably won’t ever open this document again
‘Cause I’m sh*t.
And even if I do, I’ll feel embarrassed ‘n sh*t
‘Cause I’m shit.)
I made this ‘cause I felt like sh*t. I still do. ([name], since I may as well savour the narcissism. F*ck you.)
I feel like sh*t.
I’m not too sure WHY I feel like sh*t. But I do.
I have an idea as to WHY I feel like sh*t.
It might have something to do with self-insignificance.
Perhaps I feel insignificant? I don’t really think so.
Perhaps I feel ignored? Maybe.
Perhaps I feel like I’m a sh*tface? Yea, probably.
Why?
Probably because of my failing health.
My failing grades.
My failing psychological state, failing mental state.
Feel like sh*t.
‘Cause I’ve made myself apart from others? Yea.
‘Cause I hate others? Yea.
I hate myself because I hate others. Yea.
I hate myself because I hate myself. Yea.
I hate everything else? Not really.
I still feel like sh*t.
I’ve been treating my friends badly because I’ve been feeling like sh*t.
I feel like sh*t because I’ve been treating my friends badly.
So I feel like sh*t.
And I feel like sh*t because I’m treating my family terribly.
And I treat my family terribly because I feel like sh*t.
I don’t care because I feel like sh*t, but I feel like sh*t because I don’t care.
I feel like sh*t because I can’t explain why I feel like sh*t.
And I feel like sh*t because I don’t know why I feel like sh*t.
Because now I think I feel like sh*t
Because I am sh*t
‘Cause I’ve already lost my f*cking mind and I feel like sh*t
All the time
Like shit.
(P.S.
I probably won’t ever open this document again
‘Cause I’m sh*t.
And even if I do, I’ll feel embarrassed ‘n sh*t
‘Cause I’m shit.)
shit
-
Code
Waste Away
Waste away into decadence.
Rot away and die, collapse, just as the decayed husks of that which is long dead.
The sores upon the universe, you, despicable humans, fester and die. Stagnate in your own filth and incompetence.
Exist in malcontentedness, in satisfaction of being flesh heaps, mindless, merely tubs of chemicals, stirring pots of Chaos and disorder.
Decay, and die, mortal, weakling, vulnerable in flesh and mind, soulless contraption.
You are not human, not man, not woman, not child, but beast, an animal, disgusting. Return to dirt and ash, cretin.
Your will is silly, efforts fruitless. Pass away into nonexistence and surrender life to the eternal apocalypse, pass away and die.
Waste away into decadence.
Rot away and die, collapse, just as the decayed husks of that which is long dead.
The sores upon the universe, you, despicable humans, fester and die. Stagnate in your own filth and incompetence.
Exist in malcontentedness, in satisfaction of being flesh heaps, mindless, merely tubs of chemicals, stirring pots of Chaos and disorder.
Decay, and die, mortal, weakling, vulnerable in flesh and mind, soulless contraption.
You are not human, not man, not woman, not child, but beast, an animal, disgusting. Return to dirt and ash, cretin.
Your will is silly, efforts fruitless. Pass away into nonexistence and surrender life to the eternal apocalypse, pass away and die.
-
Code
"Abandon All Hope, Mortal
Abandon all hope, mortal, and flee recklessly into the abyss.
Abandon all woe, mortal, and run, arms open, into the peace of the abyss.
Abandon all fatigue, mortal, and fall listlessly into the dark of the abyss.
There, mortal, within the abyss, find eternal happiness, peace, and rest. There, mortal, you will never again feel sadness, dissidence, nor pain.
Dive, mortal, headlong into the abyss, never again to do, feel, or think. Become one with the abyss, heaven, and hell.
Sooner or later, mortal, you shall fall into the abyss. At that time, you will decide what to abandon and what to savour.
Abandon all hope, mortal, of escaping the end-fate of all, the abyss."
Abandon all hope, mortal, and flee recklessly into the abyss.
Abandon all woe, mortal, and run, arms open, into the peace of the abyss.
Abandon all fatigue, mortal, and fall listlessly into the dark of the abyss.
There, mortal, within the abyss, find eternal happiness, peace, and rest. There, mortal, you will never again feel sadness, dissidence, nor pain.
Dive, mortal, headlong into the abyss, never again to do, feel, or think. Become one with the abyss, heaven, and hell.
Sooner or later, mortal, you shall fall into the abyss. At that time, you will decide what to abandon and what to savour.
Abandon all hope, mortal, of escaping the end-fate of all, the abyss."
