Melancholia

I. | Vice & Virtue

the tears im feeling the need to shed are untamable, inevitable, disobedient and dangerous.
but i feel so moody right now, though i feel alright with that... happy about that, even. i cant pinpoint my emotions. its all a blur.
i have a hole inside my stomach, and just the simple act of breathing reminds me that i'll truly never be whole.
i just feel like i want somebody with me but not in that same sense of immaturity and blissful ignorance i once longed for.
but rather, i feel like i want something real and to die for, and i want that intoxicating love that everybody dreams about, the raw lusting, the sweet cravings of somebody's touch, the love jargon between two people, but not just that... bordering between eros and love of which that is agape.
i also just wanna lie down in the middle of a forest, under a weeping willow tree, with an enchantress of a meadow sprawled out beyond as far as i can see, before my vision turns immensely blurry...
solidified by all the merciless tears, for i'd be crying for hours and hours under the moonlight and the safety of the incandescing stars millions of light years away, that still...
somehow...
seem to reach out to me.
i don't know why.
everything in the universe is moving away from our planet slowly, and slowly, and slowly.
its such nerve-striking melancholy for us humans, for we will all get so lonely and our precious home of earth will thus become isolated from its own once-condemning surroundings.
no longer will the sun shine, no star will dance by the skyline, no moon to help guide our intuition... the seas, the lost tides, the dead and the dying elements. there will, at last, be nothing.
nothing at all.
one with what god hath created first - mere darkness that will forever be everlasting.
it will be pure oblivion as we know it.
in this very moment, i feel like im in the mood to simply drain the blood flowing through my veins dry and lay my corpse in dust in the middle of nowhere to feel something real...
something utterly raw and overwhelming. although, yes, i am quite wary.
this is to be a complete contradiction, a juxtaposition fundamentally stored within itself.
but, as all philosophers and all pessimists, all mislead souls and all those who are too empathetic for their own good... i mean it.
im genuine about my regards, period. that is both my vice and my virtue.
but there is nothing colloquial about it, nothing casual, yet nothing quite wrong either. and it makes me feel... it makes me feel strange, like if i jumped off of a cliff right now and landed in water, i'd grow wings rather than fins and gills.
i'd fly.
i don't know why i feel this way, maybe because i just don't know what i am or who i am or why im here and my i know... deep down, within myself, that indeed; my mind is a mess.
theres so much junk in my brain. stupid things. stupid memories that can never be erased, but thankfully never replenished.
just thinking back at the days where i was thirsty for anything that made me feel alive makes me want to drown myself in hopes that i die.
i can't believe myself...
all the pot smoking and drug toking. what was wrong with me?
and i really can't believe myself sometimes...
what i used to do, who i used to be, the people that were in my circle and those of which were toxic enough to burn my functioning brain cells and lure me into a deep abyss of sweet sin.
they were vile, and i was their puppet being pulled on strings.
sometimes...
i really don't know if she was the same person as i am today, because she was vulnerable, and i am content...
in the minority.
yet, regardless, still ambiguous in my sense of self, but just as shore as there being an infinite number of galaxies within our universe.
right now, i just really want to be pinned down and kissed, but im just by myself and im actually okay with that, unlike when i used to be dehydrated for some tedious comfort from anyone who was offering it.
now, i just want to grab my hair and rip it out.
stare at the mirror and just stare and stare until i become that person in the reflection instead of the person just gazing at it like a lunatic.
im sick of not being able to look down my corridor when the lights are off in fear of the supernatural, even though i love it and i want it.
its my mind that plays tricks on me.
life is like a maze, it doesnt go around in circles, but it makes jagged turns with sharp directions, and just whilst headed straight you have to make a cut to find the suggested path.
if it were me, i'd walk straight through the bushes and the hedges, but my own destiny seems to be already fore-set. whatever.
i feel eccentric.
like im going to explode and then revive. i feel tired yet ecstatic.
i hate myself but i love this life, the rawness of it.
i love it when i cry, when i feel so shitty towards this world and everybody in it.
i feel so much better like that than when i feel happy.
i guess it is true after all, you can be addicted to a certain kind of sadness.
but i love it.
i feel something... the harsh saturation of something, and it makes me feel something....
truly feel it...

and for that, i absolutely fucking love it.

(a.g.)