Cannot reject one or the other.
Yet cannot seem to attract either.
Ever a pulsating force of wills.
Where the contridiction is the face of humanity.
Going against the mind and soul.
And pushing through the heart and body of it all.
Fear nothing and embrace everything.
Or reverse it all and obtain oblivion?
"There's no honour amongst the will of humanity"
If there is nothing, then what is honour?
"Hold nothing but the final weapon and carry out the mission..."
And what? Die?
"No, live."
Enigmatic Box of Sound by Psychol0gist, literature
Literature
Enigmatic Box of Sound
No sight to see the world yet I can feel it on the very tips of my fingers.
Deaf to every word spoken yet able to speak in an entirely different way
Scarred yet appearing to radiate nothing but a beauty unlike any other.
Losing footing yet still able to cross the roads of the world freely.
Without guidance at arm's reach yet understood through the window of the soul.
And each one singing their own song in harmony to become one with another.
Nothing like becoming their own music box to draw an enigma to themselves.
Enter Wiosna.
And leave with a heart rebuilt from nothing but a desire to cling onto hope.
Move in and out of reality.
Not giving two thoughts about where you end up.
The music bursting in pops and pushes.
Being stretched back and forth like you had no ties.
In your own place, zone, element.
Stand-alone and exerting every force imaginable.
Just to be seen by everything circling you.
You want to draw them in and keep their distance.
Just count them all, they all pale in comparison.
And you're within your own flaming passion.
A nova within a dark space of individuality.
Reach out, spread out, run out. Go without stopping.
The door of fate that we choose by Psychol0gist, literature
Literature
The door of fate that we choose
Never the same door twice.
Will we ever meet up again?
Are we going see one another?
There's no answer.
Door's one way only.
Is this the hallway to the finish?
Has fate determined where we're going?
The signs point only forward.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Don't forget will you?
For sometimes I hate the idea of fate.
And these doors won't stay open.
But other times I love the idea of it.
Do you know why?
It opens another door to another fate.
Some different destination we never heard of.
And the best thing is... we choose it.
Have you heard of the story of Mary and her three lambs?
Unable to go back.
Stutter, stare, freeze.
Not able to move away.
Stare, raise, cower.
Pressured into the flow.
Turn, run, sprint.
Break out of cycle.
Breathe, recompose, analyse.
Regress into the former.
It will never be the same...
Phasing the Elevating Rain by Psychol0gist, literature
Literature
Phasing the Elevating Rain
Grounded.
Pressing on.
Open passage.
Access.
Input, glow.
Top of the world.
Waiting, listening.
Lights going off.
Numbers and letters.
Interfaced with strangers.
Destined for destination.
Stop for release.
Float back down again.
Towards suspended movement.
Grounded again.
With rain, space.
Beckoning another ride?
Elation and relation. No amount of direction can force a lost soul through the masses.
The ohhh's and ahhh's of the night.
With people watching with their starry eyed gazes.
To stay with the crowd, holding off the gravity?
Or be at peace with an everlasting feeling...
Only time will tell for those that keep walking.
Going in like a tank, with nothing but the ambition.
The force that puts us at war with ourselves and others.
With the experiment tearing us apart, shattering all heart.
Until we brave another winter, all that we do is stay within an interlude.
A desire to just relax... wait a while longer.
Until the end comes to reclaim the aftermath from us.
All we can do is just remain a stranger within a beat-ridden w
Temper temper.
Rock back and forth.
Slow it down.
Pulse and break.
Sway and dwindle.
Rise and hold.
Drop and mellow.
Beep, beep, beep.
The music and the soul.
Reunite and relocate.
Ambition's aftermath.
Ready to forge another heartbeat.
Music has no alliance. Just time and a message no words can convey.
You got me.
No place to run.
No one to hide behind.
Just don't let me feel pain.
No more drawing it out.
Just... make me lose it.
Lose this sanity.
Lose that shred of hope.
Lose the one part that united us all.
Recreate my soul.
My entire being that you have come to know.
Break it all.
Let it drop.
You know you can't win everything.
And you can't lose what you don't got.
It's for the best.
Logic will forgive you.
And karma will reclaim you.
Far cry from the depths of deaf destruction, Psydeus.
One beat.
Drawn breath.
Another beat.
Grasping on straws.
Beat again.
Drained out.
Beat beat.
Collapse.
Last beat.
Eyes now lifeless.
The last moment between pleasure and life on a gamble.
Cannot reject one or the other.
Yet cannot seem to attract either.
Ever a pulsating force of wills.
Where the contridiction is the face of humanity.
Going against the mind and soul.
And pushing through the heart and body of it all.
Fear nothing and embrace everything.
Or reverse it all and obtain oblivion?
"There's no honour amongst the will of humanity"
If there is nothing, then what is honour?
"Hold nothing but the final weapon and carry out the mission..."
And what? Die?
"No, live."
Enigmatic Box of Sound by Psychol0gist, literature
Literature
Enigmatic Box of Sound
No sight to see the world yet I can feel it on the very tips of my fingers.
Deaf to every word spoken yet able to speak in an entirely different way
Scarred yet appearing to radiate nothing but a beauty unlike any other.
Losing footing yet still able to cross the roads of the world freely.
Without guidance at arm's reach yet understood through the window of the soul.
And each one singing their own song in harmony to become one with another.
Nothing like becoming their own music box to draw an enigma to themselves.
Enter Wiosna.
And leave with a heart rebuilt from nothing but a desire to cling onto hope.
Move in and out of reality.
Not giving two thoughts about where you end up.
The music bursting in pops and pushes.
Being stretched back and forth like you had no ties.
In your own place, zone, element.
Stand-alone and exerting every force imaginable.
Just to be seen by everything circling you.
You want to draw them in and keep their distance.
Just count them all, they all pale in comparison.
And you're within your own flaming passion.
A nova within a dark space of individuality.
Reach out, spread out, run out. Go without stopping.
The door of fate that we choose by Psychol0gist, literature
Literature
The door of fate that we choose
Never the same door twice.
Will we ever meet up again?
Are we going see one another?
There's no answer.
Door's one way only.
Is this the hallway to the finish?
Has fate determined where we're going?
The signs point only forward.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Don't forget will you?
For sometimes I hate the idea of fate.
And these doors won't stay open.
But other times I love the idea of it.
Do you know why?
It opens another door to another fate.
Some different destination we never heard of.
And the best thing is... we choose it.
Have you heard of the story of Mary and her three lambs?
Unable to go back.
Stutter, stare, freeze.
Not able to move away.
Stare, raise, cower.
Pressured into the flow.
Turn, run, sprint.
Break out of cycle.
Breathe, recompose, analyse.
Regress into the former.
It will never be the same...
Phasing the Elevating Rain by Psychol0gist, literature
Literature
Phasing the Elevating Rain
Grounded.
Pressing on.
Open passage.
Access.
Input, glow.
Top of the world.
Waiting, listening.
Lights going off.
Numbers and letters.
Interfaced with strangers.
Destined for destination.
Stop for release.
Float back down again.
Towards suspended movement.
Grounded again.
With rain, space.
Beckoning another ride?
Elation and relation. No amount of direction can force a lost soul through the masses.
The ohhh's and ahhh's of the night.
With people watching with their starry eyed gazes.
To stay with the crowd, holding off the gravity?
Or be at peace with an everlasting feeling...
Only time will tell for those that keep walking.
Going in like a tank, with nothing but the ambition.
The force that puts us at war with ourselves and others.
With the experiment tearing us apart, shattering all heart.
Until we brave another winter, all that we do is stay within an interlude.
A desire to just relax... wait a while longer.
Until the end comes to reclaim the aftermath from us.
All we can do is just remain a stranger within a beat-ridden w
Temper temper.
Rock back and forth.
Slow it down.
Pulse and break.
Sway and dwindle.
Rise and hold.
Drop and mellow.
Beep, beep, beep.
The music and the soul.
Reunite and relocate.
Ambition's aftermath.
Ready to forge another heartbeat.
Music has no alliance. Just time and a message no words can convey.
You got me.
No place to run.
No one to hide behind.
Just don't let me feel pain.
No more drawing it out.
Just... make me lose it.
Lose this sanity.
Lose that shred of hope.
Lose the one part that united us all.
Recreate my soul.
My entire being that you have come to know.
Break it all.
Let it drop.
You know you can't win everything.
And you can't lose what you don't got.
It's for the best.
Logic will forgive you.
And karma will reclaim you.
Far cry from the depths of deaf destruction, Psydeus.
One beat.
Drawn breath.
Another beat.
Grasping on straws.
Beat again.
Drained out.
Beat beat.
Collapse.
Last beat.
Eyes now lifeless.
The last moment between pleasure and life on a gamble.
She and I, lying with such silent resolve.
Her head resting upon support I had given hold.
And my own body being enveloped by her space.
The feeling from just holding our bodies in place.
Sleep would not reach our eyes in that time.
Just subtle actions, befitted for those of a mime.
Placement of my arms, tap of the toes from her feet.
Every single one, both knew it had to be discreet.
Neither shifted away from the glow of the nocturne.
Not even when she and I whispered things we learned.
The comfort felt like such an eternity on end.
Even after such suppressed pain had been on tend.
Alas, the night would not last forever for us.
Current Residence: Merry ol' land of Oz Favourite genre of music: Instrumental Operating System: Windows MP3 player of choice: iPod Favourite cartoon character: Reborn from Hitman Reborn Personal Quote: We need MOAR <insert item here>!!1!1one!!
Welcome the aria...
Pulsing the median...
Dropping the rhythm...
Raising the crescendo...
Let fall the harmony...
And nothing left but the finale...
Only to be left with an encore no-one listens.
Andante...
They've hidden away for the season until it passes.
It's not the time for them to celebrate. They both seem to die a little when this time of the year comes.
It was never a happy time to begin with.
Goodbye... for now...