Home
Saturday journal
Today I felt very angsty, probably because I am a hormonal teenager. I wrote a poem to ease this. It is a very disturbing poem and does not represent the way I feel, so do not be frightened or worried by it. It is from the perspective of a sociopath depression. I warn you, the purpose of the poem is to make the reader feel the pain and discomfort of the point of view of the narrator. If you don’t like feeling uncomfortable, please don’t read it.
I am fragmented
Tortured by a pain that binds me
This f**king EVIL tells me to move
Yet I cannot, for the life of me, move.
As movement brings about agony.
A deep seated, bubbling, boiling pain.
Caused by a swelling, bulging mass.
An awful grotesque balloon in my head
Threatening to grow, to pop.
If such a bursting would be possible.
It's not. Alas it is not.
Even a screaming ultimate release,
Worse than anything felt before,
A swift horrible "F**K!" before
A complete and utter cessation of hurt,
Cannot be achieved to finally ease this.
So it is not that which I hope for.
What is it that I hope for?
In my moments of suffering,
Sleep is something I hope for.
But sleep is a mockery that eludes me.
There is no rest. No escape.
I grit my teeth. I bear the pain.
It's all I can do, trapped beneath
A pressure unrelenting,
Unmercifully unrelenting.
F**k it HURTS. My mind SCREAMS!
But my breath remains a harsh whisper.
The tears in my eyes mingle
With the sweat on my brow
The sweat on my face, pain sweat.
That fails to cool me down.
It fails, it fails, it f**king fails.
Like my lost efforts to subdue it
I'm kidding myself. Over and OVER.
Futility is my strong-suit.
In my hours of AWFUL EVIL PAIN.
A hilarious paradox this is:
Ignoring the agony causes jolts.
Lightning flashes of pure hot white.
While focusing on it makes it well up.
Slowly to the point of overflowing.
The point at which I must try to ignore it,
And yet again begin this cycle:
This terrible tidal change of terror
Despite this feeling, a purely new feeling,
A pain I now can fully appreciate,
I remarkably can look at myself.
Almost as if I were not myself.
And I see my struggles, my throes.
And I LAUGH. Not from amusement,
But out of horror. For I am pitiful. Sad.
I'm purely an animal at this time. Alone
Beyond reason or understanding. Dumb
Which is what makes me scared. FEAR
An unthinking brute, grunting and groaning..
I fear that I will succumb to the pain.
That I will lose my thoughts completely,
Among the raging infernos of agony.
An agony that threatens my head.
Which I suppose is why I am writing.
To try to keep myself intact.
To keep myself UNFRAGMENTED.
See, I thought that most pain is sharp.
I thought that it focuses the mind.
And it does at times, in short bursts.
But when its constant. Unrelenting.
It threatens to swallow, to engulf
My human state of mind. Like now,
It dulls me. Tires me. Exhausts me.
Laughs at me as it won't let me sleep.
It is evil. It is uncaring and gleeful.
Reveling in it's malice. In my pain.
I fight it futilely with patience.
Knowing that I will lose.
Because evil knows how to press.
How to push and press and PUSH.
PUSH ME MOTHERF**KER!
PUSH ME WHILE I F**KING TAKE IT.
Until I, the victim buckles and cries out.
A useless cry, only adding to the pain.
This f**ked up pain. A pain most f**ked.
A pain that shoves me in a pile of s**t.
Watching me wallow around, swallowing feces.
A pain that watches me and claps joyously.
Clap, clap, clapping like a f**king retard,
Tremendously enjoying a good show.
Making sport of my raking agony.
I must be really goddamn entertaining,
Because this show has gone on far too long.
It needs to STOP. But it won't.
The beat of my heart reminds me of that.
A beat I feel more through that swollen balloon,
Than through my heavy, heaving chest.
As if my heart exists in that bulging mass,
Twitching and spasming and jolting.
Simultaneously circulating two things.
Blood and pain. Blood and pain.
All throughout my tortured body.
Centralized only by knowledge
Of where my injury exists,
Because I feel the pain everywhere.
Smell the pain all around me.
Haha isn't that just f**king rich?
It just dawned on me that I can smell it.
It smells salty. It smells of dried sweat.
With the perfect tinge of used iodine.
A sweet musty odor that makes me gag.
Sure why not add more to my misery?
You're a f**king riot mr. Pain.
You've got me hook line and sinker.
Hooked into my nervous system, parasitic.
Lining up one gasping pang after the other.
Sinking your foul rotting teeth into me.
I taste good don't I you f**ked up monster?
Son of a b**ch I bet I taste GREAT.
Just keep at it Mr. pain, Mr. monster.
I don't want to spoil YOUR good time.
F**k. See how things become clouded?
I'm making up pseudonyms for my pain,
For god's sake. F**king personas.
Well. This experience sure has taught me a lot.
It's taught me that THE FU**ING PAIN
WONT F**KING GO AWAY!
The uncomfortable f**ker won't go away.
Speaking of uncomfortable, look at this s**t.
Anyone who reads this will feel uncomfortable.
I guess they'll at least be slightly uneasy.
I mean come on. For the last 100 lines or so,
I've been more melodramatic than a whining,
Sniveling, prepubescent teenage B**CH.
That's what this f**king pain has made me.
It's turned me into a godawful b**ch.
It's made me into ITS godawful b**ch.
What a creation. I'm sure it's proud.
I'm a work of art. A genuine masterpiece.
I am clay and the pain is a guiding hand.
I am malleable in this state, so it molds me,
It shapes me into what it desires to see.
It shapes a horrible grimace on my face.
It shapes tears that leak from my burning eyes.
It shapes my entire being to shudder and twitch.
I am a masterpiece of agony, constantly changing.
Constantly enduring. Endlessly enduring.
Until sunrise. When I hope that light will drive away
This pain that binds me. That fragments me.
This f**king evil that shatters me. Infinitely.
In other news I am excited to eat at De Neve for dinner tonight.
Today I felt very angsty, probably because I am a hormonal teenager. I wrote a poem to ease this. It is a very disturbing poem and does not represent the way I feel, so do not be frightened or worried by it. It is from the perspective of a sociopath depression. I warn you, the purpose of the poem is to make the reader feel the pain and discomfort of the point of view of the narrator. If you don’t like feeling uncomfortable, please don’t read it.
I am fragmented
Tortured by a pain that binds me
This f**king EVIL tells me to move
Yet I cannot, for the life of me, move.
As movement brings about agony.
A deep seated, bubbling, boiling pain.
Caused by a swelling, bulging mass.
An awful grotesque balloon in my head
Threatening to grow, to pop.
If such a bursting would be possible.
It's not. Alas it is not.
Even a screaming ultimate release,
Worse than anything felt before,
A swift horrible "F**K!" before
A complete and utter cessation of hurt,
Cannot be achieved to finally ease this.
So it is not that which I hope for.
What is it that I hope for?
In my moments of suffering,
Sleep is something I hope for.
But sleep is a mockery that eludes me.
There is no rest. No escape.
I grit my teeth. I bear the pain.
It's all I can do, trapped beneath
A pressure unrelenting,
Unmercifully unrelenting.
F**k it HURTS. My mind SCREAMS!
But my breath remains a harsh whisper.
The tears in my eyes mingle
With the sweat on my brow
The sweat on my face, pain sweat.
That fails to cool me down.
It fails, it fails, it f**king fails.
Like my lost efforts to subdue it
I'm kidding myself. Over and OVER.
Futility is my strong-suit.
In my hours of AWFUL EVIL PAIN.
A hilarious paradox this is:
Ignoring the agony causes jolts.
Lightning flashes of pure hot white.
While focusing on it makes it well up.
Slowly to the point of overflowing.
The point at which I must try to ignore it,
And yet again begin this cycle:
This terrible tidal change of terror
Despite this feeling, a purely new feeling,
A pain I now can fully appreciate,
I remarkably can look at myself.
Almost as if I were not myself.
And I see my struggles, my throes.
And I LAUGH. Not from amusement,
But out of horror. For I am pitiful. Sad.
I'm purely an animal at this time. Alone
Beyond reason or understanding. Dumb
Which is what makes me scared. FEAR
An unthinking brute, grunting and groaning..
I fear that I will succumb to the pain.
That I will lose my thoughts completely,
Among the raging infernos of agony.
An agony that threatens my head.
Which I suppose is why I am writing.
To try to keep myself intact.
To keep myself UNFRAGMENTED.
See, I thought that most pain is sharp.
I thought that it focuses the mind.
And it does at times, in short bursts.
But when its constant. Unrelenting.
It threatens to swallow, to engulf
My human state of mind. Like now,
It dulls me. Tires me. Exhausts me.
Laughs at me as it won't let me sleep.
It is evil. It is uncaring and gleeful.
Reveling in it's malice. In my pain.
I fight it futilely with patience.
Knowing that I will lose.
Because evil knows how to press.
How to push and press and PUSH.
PUSH ME MOTHERF**KER!
PUSH ME WHILE I F**KING TAKE IT.
Until I, the victim buckles and cries out.
A useless cry, only adding to the pain.
This f**ked up pain. A pain most f**ked.
A pain that shoves me in a pile of s**t.
Watching me wallow around, swallowing feces.
A pain that watches me and claps joyously.
Clap, clap, clapping like a f**king retard,
Tremendously enjoying a good show.
Making sport of my raking agony.
I must be really goddamn entertaining,
Because this show has gone on far too long.
It needs to STOP. But it won't.
The beat of my heart reminds me of that.
A beat I feel more through that swollen balloon,
Than through my heavy, heaving chest.
As if my heart exists in that bulging mass,
Twitching and spasming and jolting.
Simultaneously circulating two things.
Blood and pain. Blood and pain.
All throughout my tortured body.
Centralized only by knowledge
Of where my injury exists,
Because I feel the pain everywhere.
Smell the pain all around me.
Haha isn't that just f**king rich?
It just dawned on me that I can smell it.
It smells salty. It smells of dried sweat.
With the perfect tinge of used iodine.
A sweet musty odor that makes me gag.
Sure why not add more to my misery?
You're a f**king riot mr. Pain.
You've got me hook line and sinker.
Hooked into my nervous system, parasitic.
Lining up one gasping pang after the other.
Sinking your foul rotting teeth into me.
I taste good don't I you f**ked up monster?
Son of a b**ch I bet I taste GREAT.
Just keep at it Mr. pain, Mr. monster.
I don't want to spoil YOUR good time.
F**k. See how things become clouded?
I'm making up pseudonyms for my pain,
For god's sake. F**king personas.
Well. This experience sure has taught me a lot.
It's taught me that THE FU**ING PAIN
WONT F**KING GO AWAY!
The uncomfortable f**ker won't go away.
Speaking of uncomfortable, look at this s**t.
Anyone who reads this will feel uncomfortable.
I guess they'll at least be slightly uneasy.
I mean come on. For the last 100 lines or so,
I've been more melodramatic than a whining,
Sniveling, prepubescent teenage B**CH.
That's what this f**king pain has made me.
It's turned me into a godawful b**ch.
It's made me into ITS godawful b**ch.
What a creation. I'm sure it's proud.
I'm a work of art. A genuine masterpiece.
I am clay and the pain is a guiding hand.
I am malleable in this state, so it molds me,
It shapes me into what it desires to see.
It shapes a horrible grimace on my face.
It shapes tears that leak from my burning eyes.
It shapes my entire being to shudder and twitch.
I am a masterpiece of agony, constantly changing.
Constantly enduring. Endlessly enduring.
Until sunrise. When I hope that light will drive away
This pain that binds me. That fragments me.
This f**king evil that shatters me. Infinitely.
In other news I am excited to eat at De Neve for dinner tonight.
