I am driven because it keeps the void at bay.
It front of me there was a black hole, in the smoke of a burning building.
Someone had asked me the night before the meaning of the word void.
The void is an emptyness, and an everything.
When I saw the cloud of black smoke in front of me, I experiences a feeling of slight terror, as something was consumed.
The sky was a bright blue and the cloud was black.
I was at the edge of things. Ready to go deep into things.
Explosive force. I like volitaile things. Small explosions.
I was so near to the abyss, which I had long since craved, the feeling of something moving over me and in me. A bit dark. A bit surging.
it’s time to be unapologetic, harsh, and firey
The outcome of my days is always the same: an infinite desire for what one never gets, a void one cannot fill, an utter yearning to produce in all ways, to battle against time that drags us along, and the distractions that throw a veil over our soul.
I am feeling like this
Something, an extreme dark force, a trauma, a swirl, a dull pain reeling through the core of the body.
Terror and pain as a sharp prick
things taken without reason
and yet, this mixes, at times, merges
silken surfaces push against it, with a joy which is possible only when one has this horror, like a weight which.one must both escape and carry.
Deep, dark, soft void; I am going to nudge right against you
Approach me, i am a becoming eternal, i am a half rotten body, seeking newness, i am a diamond glint at the edge of the void
learning to accept desire and all of its intricacies is an arduous process.
Desire has become so mutated to a base level; being represented as though it is something which can be satisfied, food, sex.
Sex and food being two things, the pleasure of which can be much more intense than just the consumption of the object.
there is a more complex, perhaps primordial desire.
standing inside of it, experiencing desire and want as a force which penetrates the entire body, it begins it’s slow mutation, staying in this desire itself, letting it well up like a wavelike force inside of you, this is the void and the terror
How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?