Follow Me

Regards

  Worms. Fingers. Worms and fingers. They won't stop crawling out of my back. I yell for them to stop, but it doesn't stop. I just feel them writhe across my pale, twitching body. It's never going to stop. It's never going to stop. Nothing is here. Nothing is present. Nothing will ever be sacred again.

He's awakening dreaming. Limitless yet bounded, choking as the worms crawl out from the gaping mouth, you can't help but feel it's you.

But he is I. When were they not? Her impostor, a lonely man atop a hill, shaking gently in need of warmth and sustenance. A bottle covered in water because the top has already been reached, but you continue to pour more water onto it. A naked man, hunched over, feasting on the dead rats in the corners of the room. His body is contorted to reach all ends of this small room which he inhabits. A boy cowers in fear in the corner of his room, staring up at the man who stands in the centre of it. Dancing slowly in the night with a bag full of your own acceptance. Maybe this is all that anything is worth.

Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all!


And so they went

Down their little anthills

Chasing away the sun into the abyss.

The first man and first one

Dancing eternally under a spotless moonlight of twenty-three moons

(words faintly echoing through an otherwise empty skull of acoustics with twenty-three plus one hundred four extra nickels and dimes nailed into the gristle)


Flashing lights above, below, around

M

Waking up asleep. Jjustttttt

asleep

The spread is nigh

The bell tolls

The bell tolls

The bell tolls

I awaken in startle.

I awaken in startle.

He awakens.

I am not the one

I am not the one

I am not here
I am not here
I am not here
This isn't really happening
I'm not here
I'm not here
im not here not here not herenothere

Erasure

Erasure

Sickness

Sweetness

Boys that jump

Waking up dreaming

Sleep

Awaken not him

M

A boy on the run


A boy crushed

Nothing wanted

Nothing sacred

The bell tolls.

Ears that ring in silence

Hair that falls below the mouth

Maggots

Maggots

Maggots

Running

Skin

Worlds

teeth gnash

skin crawls

bell tolls

no one will sleep

kept up at nights

dreams that fulfill nothing

meaninglessness

regards

regards

regards

regards

regards
re

Regards

Speechless in the basement

Horror befalling your everything

Falling down up

Chat

Speech

sickness

C

H

Eyes

Eyes twirling

Eyes spin

Dancing

She's here, gone, alone, present

Unlikable stench of blood? Painting sonic soundscapes along an infinite canvas



She's dancing so elegantly

Elegance

Elegance

Elegance.

Elegance.

Madness

Erasure.

L

teeth are slowly being plucked from my mouth. i dont understand where they could be going. i wake up shaking. the truth is out there but ill never find it. its gone from me. please hel (the writing descends into incomprehensibility)

Possibilities/impossibilities




Shaken at the thought of outside intrusion

A lone familiar man walks

And falls

Falling down a rabbit hole nobody should've known existed.


Six beings of unknown origin crowd the already lauded streets,

streets of gold,

streets of concrete

Streets of men's hard work and skin.


Waking up to smell and taste boiling hot regret,

on the bridge,

bridging into the Hells themselves,

perhaps the best place right now.


Walking along,

they encounter a young boy,

perhaps on purpose,

perhaps not.


The two duel,

all standing in the way fall,

fall down no rabbit hole

But into sweet nothings.



Sour intermission here; there's blood painted along the walls, blood painted all over us now that we've stepped in. Thankfully, everyone knows we didn't commit this crime, eh? Body count, if you can call it that, was one and it appears to definitely be a homicide. We think the murder weapon was an explosive device, because the person seemed to be blown to bits, like a body after a plane crash. If it was an explosive device, though, why has nothing else in the room taken damage? Was it a small explosive device that was built specifically to have the range of the person in mind or something? If so, that'd mean it was likely first degree. Then again, it's not like we're actual investigators or anything. This is just some stuff we thought of and we're letting the cops handle it now.

Surely, you've seen this poor kid in posters around towdid you pick up on that?







s


idh





tapping tapping is me tapping is within me tapping is my teeth tapping in my teeth gnawing camera gnawing lens waking up asleep blare my organs for juice spider put kinks in my boots erasure erasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasureerasure

Waking up to smell the boiling, hot regret on your tongue. But it isn't there. Nothing's there. I'm not here. Not here.

M

sewage, tongues

Bridges

M

the boy

M atop his throne

M atop nothing

M atop himself

Worthlessness

Shake.

The sickness has befallen him

The sickness has befallen me

The sickness will befall everything

Decay

Decay

Decay

Decay




Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you to the land
And help me understand the best I can

Not awakening not awakening not awakening she won't wake up

She won't wake up

The only thing that brought you so far she won't wake up

Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up please

Erasure

Life

Death

Object

M

M

M

M

Little boy

Going to school

Let's hear it for Frankie -

M, after having returned home, stood beside the filing cabinet, scaling it up and down with his dull, lowered eyes which would sometimes grow into widened, colourful, sparky ones whenever his father looked towards him; thinking as he just stared over at his father, who was digging through one of the cabinets for some reason that he was unaware of. He just smiled, and looked up at him, considering that was all he knew he was capable of. Staring up at his parent, and... smiling. Exactly what he was happy to do.

He's at least happy to be here, standing beside his parent. He's only eight, living in the present, instead of the past, he would get glimpses to on occasion that he had no rational explanation for. He didn't tell his parents at all that. He cared not for it either. He didn't care for why he was here, but he didn't have to yell and scream to get his way. He didn't want to have his way. Selfless at age eight. That may be a lesson for quite a few, he was told many and many a time by his parents, somewhat bitter towards the outside world and their son's perspective of it, wanting to keep him optimistic.

It was a normal day in the life of the boy, carefree as always; he found certain things difficult as he struggled with them, but he'd never open up about it. After all, who cared but himself? Nobody really seemed to pay him any mind other than himself, and sometimes, he'd even coerce himself into believing that he was just the same as anybody else. He didn't expect to be anyone special, didn't expect to live in poverty either. He just expected a life that resulted in him working an average-paying job and being able to pay the bills and occasionally afford something special for his little kiddo, because, what more do you have to hope for when you're horribly reasonable for a young boy as himself? Nothing much more, at least, in his own thought.

Just nothing just nothing I want to wake up this is a dream this isn't real I'm not happening I'm not real

I'm not real

I just want to die

I just want to die. There's nothing here. There's a void, there's a void. Nothing here

Wake up

Skin is crawling

Termites

Biting me

Skin putrid skin I am awake I am asleep

Just children

She danced in the moonlight of impacting satellites

Not ready to go

Home

I am home

Gone

I am gone



Speaking. Speaking so elegantly at a time like this, when I am going to pass. I know that tonight is the night I will pass away. I will fail here. I will become one who befalls the same as all the rest. Reader, if you happen to not be one of his puppets, please take what I say into mind. I need you to know, I need my legacy to live on. I don't care if I infect more people by this point. You already read some other pages, before you got to this one. Even if you only read the first few words you're already in this too deep. I know. I know you're confused. I would be too. Everything is topsy-turvy in the beginning, but slowly you grow accustomed to it. You learn to grow around it. And I write here, in this journal, because tonight is the night I essentially die. I will not become another corpse immediately, it will take time. However, tonight is the night I finally give in. It's been nine years. Nine long years of fighting this damn bastard who refuses to quit coming back to try me for more. I'm done. I'm tired. I'd rather die, but he won't let me. He just stands there and stares at me. I grow angry as I stare into him, and he stares back into me. I can feel him laugh without laughing or even smiling, not even smirking. He's just amused by me. Another bit of his entertainment.

But you.

You took her, you sick fuck.

You took the only person I could legitimately call a friend and you turned them into that sickening piece of trite that kills for your entertainment. You knew she was vulnerable and you knew I was vulnerable, but I got away. She didn't. But, you know what? It's been nine years. I'm tired of running. I know that she's trying to free herself from your grasp, I know she will worm free of it. I trust my story in her hands if my prediction is true. I don't want her to die, but the trees of skin outside are growing and boxing me in. I must soon run. I don't want to leave her, but she still can't get free. I know she'll live, but what choice do I have? I have betrayed you, no matter what, but under impossible circumstances. May God help you, and may God help myself. I leave now before it comes.

M

sewage

running through empty pipes

skin flowing about in the body

awake and disillusioned

But all it'll ever be is another illusion.



Your heart's a mess
You won't admit to it
It makes no sense
But I'm desperate to connect
And you, you can't live like this


You're a fraud and you know it
But it's too good to throw it all away
Anyone would do the same
You've got 'em going
And you're careful not to show it
Sometimes you even fool yourself a bit
It's like magic
But it's always been a smoke and mirrors game
Anyone would do the same
So now that you've arrived well you wonder
What is it that you've done to make the grade
And should you do the same?
(Is that too easy?)
Are you only trying to please them
(Will they see then?)
You're desperate to deliver
Anything that could give you
A sense of reassurance
When you look in the mirror
Such highs and lows
You put on quite a show
All these highs and lows
And you're never really sure
What you do it for
Well do you even want to know?
You put on quite a show
Are you watching?
Are you watching?
(Mother)
Are you watching?
(Mother)
You're a fraud and you know it
And every night and day you take the stage
And it always entertains
You're giving pleasure
And that's admirable, you tell yourself
And so you'd gladly sell yourself
To others
Are you watching?
(Mother)
Are you watching?
(Mother)
Are you watching?
(Mother)
Are you watching?
Such highs and lows
You put on quite a show
All these highs and lows
And you're never really sure
What you do it for
Well do you even want to know?
Yeah you put on quite a show

i wrote these lyrics. thought that i related. they are nice






Fingers along strings

Waking up to smell disappointment

Regrets of a modern age

But knew not the mystic,

knew not he,

was his one secret enemy,

the reality of his situation.





Regards,