the summer haze has descended. bakkheia frenzy dissasembles and slurries all into a thick mist of pheremonal & semi-corporeal realities. and my perrsonalities & sense of self becomes seperated and scattered and duplicated and stretched & i become no longer real. the true final act of chaos; i am no longer i. the head of the snake removed. oblivion of self. a cicada shell is left. i am scattered to the winds. i see myself replicated & glitcched into multiple forms. i meet myself. ungrounded. familiar objects are duplicated. small at first these glitches manifest. i no longer do or am. it is undeath aand. it. terrifies. me.
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i am not receiving
i am not transmitting
but this summer haze feels good. you can enjoy this. you have earnt this. enjoy the haze. give yourself into the experience. i am seperating.
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the extra celestial laughing is ringing in my ears
*****
going to work has stripped all life & personality from me. i have become a grey concrete ghoul addicted to drugs that ive become too tolerant to to even actually feel anything from & yet i continue to compulsively take them just out of pure dependency & watch them tear my organs to shreds. the light of creativity in me has gone out.
i wake up and put on a face. my coworkers call me bro. i go through the motions & sit & stand in a room performing the most detestable version of myself. this grey me has become my reality. i have dull thoughts. i want to kill myself again. i am not earning enough to sustain our lifestyle and very soon i will not be able to pay rent. but its a miracle i even have this job to begin with and its unlikely i will be able to find work anywhere else.
i meet a lot of people. i think i make friends, but they dont return my messages. i am not a joy to be around. i am an incoherent drug addict who cant follow conversation.
the cicada buzzing is ringing in my ears. there are better, brighter, newer versions of me elsewhere. they have taken the mantle.
i am going deaf. music no longer sounds dynamic to me. its all just a dull muffled muddy hum. i listen back to some of the unreleased music ive made over the past few years. it sounds lifeless & i no longer have the ears to mix it.
i am fantasizing about killing myself again & i dont know what to do.
i am unable to dissasociate anymore. instead i stay locked in this dull concrete body. this grey concrete mind.
there are people in my life that are truly precious to me. i am truly blessed & loved & in love. everything i do i do for my love. & yet i hate what i have become.
i love. i love truly, radically, deeply. i love my love. i love my friends. i love my enemies & those that hate and despise me. i love my devotion to love. radicall extreme love & unrelenting compassion. i truly want my unrelenting uncompromising love to conquer and destroy the world and envelop all of existence in my empire of dreams. but i am unable to love myself.
i do not love myself.
i cannot love myself.
what good is my radical love if i cannot love myself.
a body that cannot be loved. a mmind that cannot be loved. a being that cannot be loved. a god that cannot be loved. an ego that cannot be loved. a vessel that cannot be loved. cannot be loved. cannot be loved. cannot be loved. cannot be loved. cannot be loved. cannot be loved cannot be loved cannot be loved cannot be loved cannot be loved cannot be loved cannot be loved cannot be loved be loved be loved be loved be loved be loved be loved loved loved loved loved loved loved
am i that pitiable?
i am not.
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i am that cicada shell i suppose.
