Malphaestus

I am angry, everyone I knew has left me- and I have no energy to keep the ones left around me. I am angry 'cause I envy, as I grew older I've lost the ability to do things. My creativity is dropping, and the urge has vanished. I am twenty-five now and by the time I am twenty-six, I feel like I will be even worse off-
And this hurts me.

This place where my head spreads, read it and know: it is genuine, my life hellish, and my thoughts dressed in the deepest darkest. Share your piece, or don't; either way, it won't matter much. My mind is barred: my gates closed, and my walls guarded by dark thoughts I can't get rid of.

Is where I've been a lie lived? Were the words we shared, a lie spread? What am I supposed to do, where are my thoughts supposed to go for me to hear the truth. I just want to know, for a final time, for absolute sure, whether what he spared eachother was real or not. Provide me proof, too. I need it, or anyway I feel like I do. Spare it. Pity this fool, I feel too much it makes me feel like I have nothing left to do.

I know you, you know me too; we know eachother, and I loved you. You said you did too; I hurt, my mind turns. What should I do. We drift, you vanish, and I'm left here; how I wish I was anyone else. I cannot speak, the entire day I spend trying to get asleep; even so, I have dreams and things to aspire to. There were people whom I'd loved, once, too: I wanted the best for them, and I still do. I just wished I was there, you know? Too.

Instead I'm here, boo. Makes me think, was any of it real; were my thoughts, our talks, and the words we shared- any of the times spared, all of the gold in my soul, ever there? Many years passed, secrets shared; a connection made, different than any other I'd ever bear, made between two souls- both incomplete, and both in places neither of them wished they were near.

Love? I still do. You? I've no idea where you left to. I miss you, always did, always do; superficial by this point, though- even if you come back, I'm in a worse place. Though knowing you were a pride of mine, you knowing me shan't be a pride o' yours- I am broken, I am still. A million years may pass, and I'll still be dead, whether in real life or in my mind. Sad, but that is simply life.

I hold our memories dear, always done, always do; peace to you, hope that your dreams arrive and the sunrise is especially beautiful too.

I use a lot of words, say a lot of things; it all comes back to this-
I am alone and I feel empty, nothing I do fills me and anyone I cared for leaves me.
I have no energy and this simple fact drains me, I cannot do anything and it kills me.
I try to chase, but the first step leaves me out of breath: I cannot try, because my mind hates every single action that I try to take.
All of this leads me to dark thoughts, and I struggle through lots of medicines to get a hand on 'living', I try though I'm failing:
The life I'm in doesn't feel like what's advertised by everyone else that's ever been, they had things, I get nothing.
Makes me think my escape is in the booze I drink and the nicotine I take, and the drugs I eat, sniff, smoke, spit, bleed, dip, take, skip, drink...
God, make it easy; I've lived a hard life, don't treat me too harshly- I've struggled for a lifetime, and I don't wanna double my own time,
And I already flirt with the end of the line. I have two too many people who care one step too much for me to totally unwind.
Give me a lightning bolt from the sky, make it hit me straight in the head, turn me dead or make my brain turn in reverse, either-or works.
The actual truth hurts, I'd rather die by another's hand than have to deal with the way this life I live is lived, so I can trick those I care for it ain't anyone's fault,
But that ain't how this works, it's my fault, my head don't fucking work. Get me the hell out of here, I bang my hands against the walls but they're made of titanium or something worse,
I'm forever stuck in here, stuck in perpetual fear, perpetually alone and perpetually unaware of actual life, regardless of wherever the fuck I am, whoever I'm near.
Make the clock either freeze, or make it turn a billion times faster, make this shit go by faster than I can feel.
Because I feel a lot, just not what I want.

I try to die: it hasn't worked.
I try to hurt: it doesn't matter;
I try to get help, people stare at me like I'm in the wrong place-
What am I supposed to do, I was never taught of this in school.

Time has gone on for too long.

There is so much no one knows about, struggles left untold and lessons left untaught; who I am no one really seems to know about, very little to be cared for, knowledge supposed to be lost- friends lost, acquaintances drifted distances far beyond where I now roam: I'm a drifting one. I deal with it, the waves are high and the path is long- but it's how it is, and though the fight is tough, I've not fallen so far- following the currents, destinations distant but a struggling mind keeps my sail pointed proper. Pray it ends well, pray it results in something worthy talked about. I hope this isn't the end, I hope there's more to be spoken of.

I suppose this is it then, this is the end; thank you for all that you were, all that we'd been.

Truth,
There is nothing he will not do to be friends with you.
He will show you how things are,
He will tell you the devil behind every remark,
And he will unmask every single smile:
Invading all that's hallow, razing every precious thing with burning husks and swallows-
All your thoughts and dreams and puts in place his wicked spins,
Truth, he strings, the Lord Supreme, he doth whispered sing into your ruptured eardrums.
All you do, thence on, is follow; follow to his tune, singest as he do,
Joyous he strolls through every sanctum,
Soon even victim will spur a smile, crooked though it be:
Give it time, the fake will turn real,
And every single thought of pain, every dusk and every rain,
Will turn to sun and thus you go,
From sad, depressed, and hollow-
To much the same, but bearing wicked grin:
You have no choice, you thus submit,
Smile and it will end,
If the fake will turn to truth in stride,
Then all is real, there are no lies.

I look upon my present self,
Ruined visage painted by great pain spelt in crimson ink-
Great change rendered earthquakes unfelt-
'Erefore my own skin split beneath the quill as my surface chasmed,
An opening fashioned of poisonous absence, induced by desired ease:
What was within was thence released, ink delivered through the gashed seams.

It comes from deep within, heartfelt of nature and serenely sweet.
Peculiar of taste, with subtlest iron tinge;
My shell bleeds, but it is through its ink that my soul's hunger freeze.
Though my heart beats, I shan't e'er cease.
'Tis not good for me, of this I am most aware; have known for long, never fear-
'Tis not fine, but circumstance has lead me here.

Naught I touch turns to gold, naught is enough for me anymore:
A singular moment, evermore rendered in the depths of my deepest mind,
Causing this change which, mineself, I now find in the midst.
Sans, the roads that I'd paved changed: they're unruly.
Every step that I trod is a hundred leagues spent in thought,
For as great as my mind may be, and as many a thought as I can conceive,
I know not how to become better, something not worse:
I cannot move on, instead weathering this onslaught I, myself, hath brought.

I'm immersed.

My soul rendered stone,
My heart beats to burst.
These words I now weave,
Forced through purest will-
Born of a quill dripped in my own crimson spill-
Cannot be seen by eye's gaze:
Submerged as I am, always.

Whether black or white, whether day or night-
I cannot tell, for all which dwell beneath this great sea-
Be covered red, my colour dread: my signature,
Emblazoned upon every sentence I've ever made.
It would be quite the sight, but I've long since closed my eyes.
I cannot see my paper, better so: blotted in the red,
Forevermore.

Just like that time,
Like all other things past that event,
In the likeness of everything within my mind,
It's all painted the colour of purest,
Sweetest,
Beauteous-
Red.

I am tired, always tired.
Is it even possible to have made it this far, realistically.
Evidently so, considering.
How tiring.

I walked forward,
The wind swept me back,
Toward that pit most black,
From whence I flee,
The one I now see:
It's grown so big within me.

I wished I was free,
Until I was drowned in endless possibility:
Now I am lost in the sea,
Dreaming for the day that freedom ends,
And my mind is reined in again,
My friend, I do not want to wander.

Freedom breeds thoughts,
Thoughts I never wished to come across;
Never had I know how dark it was,
Until I fled from them.

Now I'm back again,
Stuck; vehement-
Fraught brought by precendent;
I keep coming back again,
To this state I wish I was never in.

My head filled by dreams I wish I never had,
Unfulfilment feels all the more sad,
When what was bad kept you from becoming glad;
Now all I do is go back,
Back to wanting what I never had.

I walk forward,
The wind swept me back;
The wind never blew,
It never had to,
I made it move,
In my mind nothing ever improves,
I will force that to be true.

Will Malphaestia make her debut on RPNation soon?

Times change, it flows;
People change, they grow;
We fall, we go.
Peace of mind,
If only for some time.

Nothing stays, everything goes:
Is it so bad to wish for hope.
We deal with much,
We handle most,
All we wished was what was good,
But we make do-
We have to.

Why do you do this endless,
Fruitless quest: senseless test?

Why do you continue ever infinite;
Expecting what you never sought,
Desiring what you never caught,
Seeing only what was never brought?

Joy is elusive, ever-so:
Let go, the future is far more,
More, more, more- freedom.
Only free, how frightening.

Paralyzing.

I am free.

I am elsewhere, I am elsewhere.

The strange world of people is as people are to the strange world.

Lord of lords, king of kings, I beseech you, as humble as I am, to return to the lands of Groznyverse and look upon ye servants with grace.

I pay respect to the Great Philosopher

Wanna do a roleplay about fantasy?

I hope you're taking care of yourself lad.
Everybody misses ya big time.

I hope you'll be coming back to us soon lad.
We all miss ya.

I want to start over.