Deleted member 17245
schizoidcel
-
- Joined
- Feb 24, 2019
- Posts
- 2,713
Emerging through the midnight gateway, you feel a sensation in your spine cutting upwards towards your neck. A flood of contempt and anger swerving with a velocity of unbearable degree--crawling through your eyes as you push another microsecond into the final night.
But just as soon as it arrives it departs. Free from an eternal pain that died in its final crescendo. That which had been waiting for nothing, wanting to be free. Released from the sad numb feeling of twilight. Let go after an aeon of sparring with the submissive contract of sadness, contempt and loneliness.
Within the ash a new persona blooms. An angel of saturation in delay, love in anger. Lifting you through yourself and into another body.
The mind a shell, a clearing, a limitless void. And within that vessel of being and creation you undertake end without moderation, sympathy without abundance, retribution without regret.
You accelerate onto a myriad of empty expressways. The velocity you once were prison to now your constant catalyst. A utopia of urgency. A carved out memory of looksmaxxing in endless and artificial refinement. Cold crystal waves driving over a synthetic shore.
The numbness of fragility now shattered within a new erudite heaven. With no horns, no fangs, no spirit. Just a silence within itself waiting for nothing and wanting to be free.
But just as soon as it arrives it departs. Free from an eternal pain that died in its final crescendo. That which had been waiting for nothing, wanting to be free. Released from the sad numb feeling of twilight. Let go after an aeon of sparring with the submissive contract of sadness, contempt and loneliness.
Within the ash a new persona blooms. An angel of saturation in delay, love in anger. Lifting you through yourself and into another body.
The mind a shell, a clearing, a limitless void. And within that vessel of being and creation you undertake end without moderation, sympathy without abundance, retribution without regret.
You accelerate onto a myriad of empty expressways. The velocity you once were prison to now your constant catalyst. A utopia of urgency. A carved out memory of looksmaxxing in endless and artificial refinement. Cold crystal waves driving over a synthetic shore.
The numbness of fragility now shattered within a new erudite heaven. With no horns, no fangs, no spirit. Just a silence within itself waiting for nothing and wanting to be free.