We Are But Stardust.

Is it sad that I was disappointed by there being no cataclysmic event on 21 December, 2012?
Sure, at the same time I was happy, because I have my daughter.
And yes, I was aware that it wasn't the end of the world, but rather the transitioning into the age of Aquarius from the age of Pieces.

But, I was kind of hoping...maybe it's my yearning of a post-apocalyptic world.

Kind of sick, right?
But we all know I'm not exactly the most normal person out there...

I guess I just want something...interesting to happen.
I'm tired of the same thing day in and day out.
There's no excitement.
Sure, there are other means of excitement, without the deaths of billions.
But like I said, I yearn for a post-apocalyptic world.

I at least wanted the Reptilians to show up.
But I guess they kind of did, it's just that they have yet to unmask themselves.

Man, I love being crazy...

It's nice to be writing again.
Just a shame not many people actually read this...why does no one use Blogger anymore?
I guess it's a good venting spot, though...
Not much to vent, I guess.
I don't really vent online. Don't need random people knowing too much about my personal life.
You understand, I'm sure.
Sure, I could make an anonymous blog.
But no one even reads the public one!

I'm not ashamed to admit that people don't read this stuff.
In all reality, I don't really care.
Just means less people to judge me.
Sure, I'd like for people to read it.
But I'm not sure how many people could really deal with my writing style or topics.

I'm not the best at writing, admittedly.
But I don't think I'm too terrible.
But there's always room for improvement...

Maybe if I was more consistent with my writing, I would actually have readers...
I just get so sidetracked.
That, or everyone just uses Tumblr.
Which I also have.
I just don't get on too often.

I guess I could always post this blog account on there...

Anyways, wanna get into some serious shit?
I don't write much anymore because I can only write (I think, at least) when I'm depressed.
I haven't really gotten depressed lately.
It's nice.
I love being happy.
However, I do miss writing.
I just don't know how to put out happy writing, it always sounds so generic.
Maybe I'm just really awkward.

Sometimes I want to feel a hint of depression, just to see if I can still feel it.
But once I get that hint, I want it gone.
And it's not like it happens often. I was depressed the other night for the first time in I don't know how long.
I guess I always feel like emotions can be broken and that mine are...
Is that too weird? Maybe not weird enough for me.

Maybe I just got so used to being depressed that I forgot how to be happy.
Then I relearned.
And I'm generally happy all the time.
Now I've forgotten how much it sucks to be depressed, until it happens every now and again.

It's nice to be happy.
I think this is the first time in my life that I have been genuinely happy.
All thanks to my (developing) daughter.
I guess it's true, in the end, everything is alright.

Discuss.

An Artist in a World Full of Pain.

I don't always discuss things.
I have an extremely artsy side to me.
Here is an example;

As I crawl, I feel you there.
You're out of view, but I can smell you.
I can smell your fear; it's radiating off of  you.
You have a fear of life and death and everything in between.

Everything is broken now.
She's cowering in the corner.
So tired of crying.
Just want to feel alive.
Just one more time.
One more time...


And her heart is waiting for your touch.
She's drowning in the lies you lied.
You killed her soul with all your hate.


All the pain I feel inside is growing more and more.
You said forever.
You lied.


When will you see?
All this pain...
We died for nothing.
We all died in vain.
You're the only one to blame.
You left me there, you'd let me rot.


I promised you my heart.
I gave it all up for you.
Here, I'm left with nothing.
Only faded memories.
I can't remember the sound of your voice anymore.


It's all so far from me.
I can feel him in my heart.
Breathing ever so slightly.
And I'm still dying inside.
I give off the essence of life.
But I'm still dying inside.


I wish you'd just leave.
Like all the times you left before.
But you're watching as I crawl away.
I smell your fear.
You know what you want.
And I know, too.


My memories are of you and hate.
I can't forgive, I can only forget.
She let you rip her to pieces.
And so did he.


Pain is more than what's on the surface, dear.
It's skin deep and you're reluctant.

I can't hear you anymore.
You're so far from me.
What was once the sweetest dream, is now the cruelest nightmare.
And when the moon comes out, the stars will fall.
Night will cure us all from hate.
Here, we'll be alive again.


We're coming back to life with the essence of death.


I can't remember who you are.
You're not the same as you were before.
You can't hold on to what you never had.
And dreams are keeping me awake.


Paranoia strikes and I crawl through the wire.
The dirt destroys her white dress.


And the panic is alive.
And the panic, you are dead.


I can feel the disease eating me from the inside.
I'm dying in the pile of leaves.
The vile will eat you alive.
And the song of October will bring you peace.


I can't feel you when I'm dying.
You're so far from here.
There's nothing that you can do.
You left long before I did.


She's breathing now.
And you're still sleeping.

-------------------------- ♥
Discuss.