Mental Asphyxia - Post a comment

June 2nd, 2009

10:33 pm - Imagine
I am a storm and I blast you away. Just because it has always been about power. You know what gives me that, what gives me what I long most. Not only the need to be admired. There is sunshine in your smile, my storm kills it, my earthquake brakes it. It brakes you. Into many little peaces. Only bad weather, darkness, all of that is inside, and I am leting it out. It is necessary to loose control. From time to time, I live from time to time. A whirpool of angry thoughts, tornado of fears and doubts. I unleash my wrath upon you, because you are my world. I owe you nothing.
Then the last string will loose its precious voice, it will become a very useless siren indeed. I still hear a sound, no, a ghost of a sound, just you all, people, are just ghosts. You do not exist, because I don't want to believe in you - you lost your faith in me, I lost my self-control. And I so need to be admired, still. By the mess I cause, by the wrongs I set free. By all that I am seen and feared. Is that not incredibly close to what I seek? Is your point of infinity set already, too? I crash the foreign ghostly melody, because it hurts to see. My voice screams havoc into existance.
So what, in fact, changed and when? How come you are the first to smile and laugh while they set fire below my feet. How come you stay to watch me burn and then you celebrate? The smell of burning red hair, burning skin and bones. Does not bother, does not hurt, do not care. It has become all you know to do - not care, ignore. Your own blessing of the century of apathy. Next century is katatonic, there will be no way back. And I shall not save it, just for the sake of it. I shall watch it burn and smile. Still, I am all alone in what I do, in what I feel.
My dreams died with your indifference, it became worse than death. Keep the dream alive and burning? Trust me, dear, you can never do both. You set fire to something and anger is born. Then, I take the fire within you, I am the rage. Now all of you know how it feels when it controls you.
I am the storm of the century, and I will blast away this miserable, unworthy world, because my world is already gone. Oh may it go to hell!

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