tripel

yes. as the universe keeps expanding, my world seems to be constantly shrinking. i don't know why this is, but it might be related to my general health and status. i'm just not keen enough to keep things from imploding. the more responsibilities and the less time i appear to have due to them, makes me really uncomfortable. i don't neccessairly value the constructive sides of engaging in certain matters if they don't imply me and my health being at the centre.
yes. constantly shrinking.
this has become an engulfing problem. i'm drowning in the tidal waves. taking more saltwater on board than what is considered healthy for a person of my build.
fucking analogies.
well.
addicted to novelty, addicted to breezing through things, just to leave me with more time to be lazy and think about all the shit that bothers me. i desperately want to shrink. i want to become invisible. i want to be of no importance. my role is to just let things slide. if i could sit on the top of the world, my only motivation for doing so was to observe all the idiots mocking about on ground-level.
i don't want to take part. i don't want to change anything. the minds of others are in the way of me doing my own little thing. the only reassurance i need, is to feel safe just being.
it's simple enough. i'm just as confused as the next person, but only if they demand that i open my yap and share my thoughts ever so often. left to my own self, i'm somewhat remotely close to the means of control. if forced to engage, i flip out and easily become quite hysterical.

i'm shrinking. i don't answer the phone. i don't answer messages on the web. they drain me too much. having to think in different patterns and consider what is suitable to a situation or person or both smothered together in a great mess, just baffles me and leaves a disarray which i then have to recover from.
it seems. this is but simple guessing. please give me the time and space needed to exist, or else, i'll shrink even more, or worse still, cease to exist.
the force of caring needs to come from within. one cannot force me to take part. the damage such notion will inflict is too much to bear. you can take my skin, my pattern and my recognised means out there to see the wonders, but i'm not there with you. extended animation does not do much for me.
the wonders of the world will stay mere objects/obstacles unless I make the decision to actively seek them.

i'm quite happy here. in my own messy universe. that's slowly becoming of no significance to others. that seems to be the ultimate goal. interactions change you forever, and i'm weary of being somebody else. i yearn to be me, and that person is so small, not easily detected and will be scared away by even the smallest of threats.

i won't say 'please leave me be' and mean it. because it's unhealthy. but i need time in order to want to grow.
you cannot motivate me. only feed me with information and then wait for me to process it.

that's when i expand.

in a drunken high

to realise
that many of
the  best conversations you have
are the ones you have
with yourself

it's truly beautiful
nomatter what the trafficlights tell you
your internal dialouge keeps the coast clear
whatever comes to mind
you're always able to discuss
nomatter what

i quite like the change of moods
quite like the eternal epiffany that for a moment seems to last forever,
that for a moment seems to posess the power to change a lifetime
until you realise that
your perception of forever
is uniquely weak

i couldn't care less
but at the same time
i couldn't care more

whatever the means
the results are clear
talking changes a lot
it either fills or drains
as if you're always left with questions
a true sign of health, a true sigh of relief

i'm hear to discuss,
that rivers run rather dry
that in eternal bliss
you're always left when high

we can't win, we won't agree,
but the loss doesn't appear
untill you realise the weakness of it all
the questions that linger
and a pocket filled with remains
of whatever life you once led
is the beaty you won't resign

i'm hear to be beaten
by the uncertain loss
we're here to be pampered
by the ones we're convinced we trust

unheard of by the common man
yet really real

sheer drops,
sore throuts
live for the moment
but always
prepare for the next

in order
in the order
of the choices made
you're nothing more
than the ones you want to know by name
and the ones that claim to know you

the reel and the real
floating quotations
trust to steer clear
we're left alone in the unkown

surpass the image
bypass the control
fiction is here to stay

words will age
after proper use
you will age
after what you pursue

to care is to be
to question is to become
as energy is here to stay

forever has lost its meaning
since all we want is out
keep track of reason
the lack thereof will kill

keep track of the lack
you'll be fine
just as the lot
we'll all park in patterns

plastic has the ability
to melt into shape
and we have the ability
to measure it

imagine the smell of an unkept garden
turn into a blizzard
ignore attention
details will cease
consciousness is not what it seems
to be fully aware
will cause the soul cancer

no no no
but
yes yes yes
to argue the facts of oblivion

nothing makes sense
so neither do we

stop playing games
and turn on the tv

good luck in life as you tag along
to the notes of yourself
and sing about great illness
the cure that shines beyond

nah i'm not here
the end is nothing to fear
reshape an experience
and deny the rest

feign as we do, concur to recur

i'm a live human being
yet i share the interests of a zombie:
  brains


why art?
well.. why the ability to understand and have human emotion?


crossing lines, creating patterns, clear wide open heads, seeking nothingness, the meaning of, everything falls in perfect circles
the smell
we're always here to pass judgement
resist the urge to feel mistreated

think about how repetitive it all is

well. i'm about to retire.
bring it into a field.
crops and grains,
visual feelings.

into this, into that, input here input there
formed by the masses, edited by yourself
edited by the masses, formed by yourself.
which one is it, if not both

nagging about previous order
meh, what is reality anyways
if not relative

i'm absolutely not here
my mind wanders vast distances before settling an internal argument.
there's peace behind every corner that i can't seem to get around.
frustrated, anxious and impatient, i run in an attempt to uncover why i can't find health
i'm unaware of a certain state, as if i'm stuck on a fictional treadmill, resulting in a lot of effort, yet rendered unable to get anywhere. the lack of sense and meaning manifest itself in a confused and dazzled way of being, interacting, pleading, and even offers an exaggerated need for escapism.
being constantly in this state, feels somewhat unreal to me. as if i'm just dreaming and patiently waiting to one day wake up readily clearheaded in spite of all the nightmares. this makes dealing with the issues of the present very unmotivating and somewhat impossible. things that appear to be out of my control, is often left out there, hanging around, ready to be picked up by whatever wind coming its way whilst my damaged self engage in other activities, neverminding the haunting issues that's constantly nagging and disrupting me.
i misinterpret this by claiming i don't care, when in reality i simply neglect rather obvious facts about my status quo.
unable to regain the consciousness needed to deal with problems i refuse to identify with, i bring this turmoil into every situation. i one day wish for freedom, relaxation, inner peace and constructive behaviour, but it seems so far away i cannot even summon the courage to take the first step and prefer to stay deliousional, ignorant, agitated and highly obnoxious. at least, that's familiar.

well. all is not well. to say the least. yet i hesitate to fathom these rather uncontrollable and highly doubted insights. keeping them at a distance, since identifying with problems of such nature feels like a far cry from who i 'am', or rather - desperately want to be.

so many hurdles. so many toxic relationships with important nuances. so much turmoil and likelihood of great illness.

but still, i think to myself that meh, this is an illusion. wake up, you pathetic excuse of a person.

sanctimonious (two-faced monsters)

ever felt like an alien?
it might be due to the fact that you are one.


_
false advertising
and all the other means of hiding the madness
we all know you don't always get what you bargain for
yet we still fail to comprehend the issues at hand
being a wordsmith and an artist of sorts can get you many an important role, sale and goods
porportions that no longer feels real in our head, as we buy whatever crap presented in a perfectly convincing manner
i'm good at selling an ability that's not often a part of me anymore
its shadows still lurk within, and i sometimes communicate on autopilot
as a salesperson
selling myself
with false advertising
that if you chose to go further
it'll only get better
more satisfaction

and when people don't buy my crap anymore, i'm left with a ton of explanation problems
which in turn, drains the living daylight out of me

you cannot possibly serve anyone well by feeding them lies
yet, we still engage in such behaviour
and with great enthusiasm as well

stuck in a loop of trying to get behind the scenes, i rarely believe in any story told, that holds great promise, but little evidence of being factual
to recognise a pattern within yourself that manifest itself in the outer world as you observe tendencies, is actually quite scary, strangely familial, distressing and comfortable at the same time

being sick of and annoyed with it won't help, but being aware somehow makes it an easier concept to grasp
solving this might depend on your ability to decrease a certain level of perfectionism, change habits and your need for some things to feel comforting

fully dysfunctional lies or completely honest disease

this is hard.
how come?
problems of stigma and fear of the unknown. a nature humans prefer in order to feel the illusion of safety.

i really want to deal with this, but i still sell myself as a healthy person. it's just easier that way. my laziness demands instant simplification, and due to it being, yes, lazy, it does not see how false advertising migth cause damage in the future
untill i suddenly have a lot of explaining to do.

a warm welcome of change, like yellow pus, dripping from the cieling

between violent waves
of disease and mistrust
we find common ground
in this great injust

for reasons beyond me
there's a certain chill
as an inside-out lava-lamp
it's not supposed to work

neither do they, neither do we,
leave it be
as yonder does the trick, we adhere

the great mine that is your mind
dig deep
sell out;
smaller quantities, maximum profit

wanting to share isn't enough
there's a living to make also
no need for a submissive position
when what we crave is in your blood

slowing down, morphing into another species
peace and flow is a seed you need to inspire
so useless
clogged drain
reheat reabsorb
when put into motion
without motivation
need for speedlimits
overrun signs
soaking up the runoff
that is your mistakes
refuse another take
missing once, never the same again
follow it into oblivion
overexposed
a true hero
who lost its impact
a different stage in a different world
nothing to teach
the same hole as always
humans are laughable

we are
that's all

remember to float
even in a drought

DEVELOP

an ability

why not

depression and desperation

when pros and cons are the same
when 'one fits all' doesn't fit at all
when being overly critical seems like the most efficient way of doing absolutely nothing
when your busy head wishes it could delegate tasks to others

when everything seems blatantly obvious and you're really hard to surprise

when faking happiness is easier than being truly happy
you just duplicate whatever you observe others do when they're supposed feel good

when denying there's a problem by jumping everywhere, thinking nothing will ever catch up on you

when NO is the answer you automaticly apply to anything

when whatever has the ability to numb you down is the only thing that appears attractive to you

when you percieve everybody as twats and can only hold on to a very small number of people

when you can never summon the ability to care. ever.

when seeing is not believing

when you put A LOT of effort into avoiding situations that's supposed to make you feel

when "do this" makes you turn and run in the oposite direction

when harsh is something you truly deserve and somehow appreciate because it usually brings people down

when the disapointment you inflict upon others is supporting your pathetic excuses

when the 'cue to exit' is everywhere and in everything

when turning your head makes you see nothing new

when an experience has to involve a lot of substances in order to feel somewhat real

when all your cells scream BLEH all the livelong day

when being like this is the new normal and if you experience something that's even remotely off that route, your brain simply panics

when WHEN when when when when when is all you think about

WHEN will this end, WHEN can i get up and out, WHEN can i just become the person that's satisfied with something, anything, WHEN will i bother to get help, WHEN will these stupid beliefs pass, WHEN can i stop constantly bringing myself down, WHEN WHATEVER and alot of fmlsd mkldfnøgnfdsmafg adkmhadf gf fa jjjjjjjjjjjjjjj


meh. carry on. curry on. please. meh.

wake up every day, thinking it'll be different

lies.

when being social feels like work

suddenly, my age seemed to be the most real fact

between two pages of a book that has yet to be written

lying there, breathing nothing but empty wishes

in a head somewhere
someone needs to agree

we're all suffocating lies

a tick on your heel
everybody laughs, as if nothing is real
motionless at sea
pulled apart by the gulf

cats none the less

misery, and the lack of it we chase
all really is so random it hurts

fully saturated
an uncomfortable bed
in your garden down under
memorise the pattern
we'll nag constantly about it

please change the diapers in my brain

..
do my brain start to attack itself and its vivid imagination when there's not enough situations elsewhere to take care of.

i've been a bit up and down that square, yes. in an ignorant void. located throughout the universe. a personal landscape where everything rolls downhill. am i to blame for gravity.

it's out of my system and into a new one. you can only push it around. it'll take another shape and haunt you over yet again. no need for mercy, though. waste of time when all i want is for a blunt wave of reason to hit me.

fanfuckingtastic and i won't ever agree. keep it to yourself and log on to another site. reality will change but the lack of control leaves a bitter taste.

force yourself through the keyhole. combat in burstmode. follow a shade in the dark and the laughther of a newlywed caught in a horrible web. totally out of ctrl.

mah meh nah no. things look their best at a distance. too close, all your left with is a hollow gaze.
nothing does me right or wrong. we're all simple humans here, bloated egos and flat tires everywhere.

when in a corner, dig or climb upwards.


om menneskets genom: " In some ways it may resemble your garage/bedroom/refrigerator/life: highly individualistic, but unkempt; little evidence of organization; much accumulated clutter (referred to by the uninitiated as 'junk'); virtually nothing ever discarded; and the few patently valuable items indiscriminately, apparently carelessly, scattered throughout. Those valuable items are the genes themselves."

win myself a darwin award

personal hygiene
total neglect
haven't used conditioner in months
haven't used any sort of bodylotion for years on end
don't go to hairdressers anymore
i own virtually no make-up, the mascara i have is, you guessed it, not mine. i rescued it out of the hands of someone about to throw it away years ago and use it once a month, maximum
use other peoples clothes, find them, buy used ones, only buy merch to support bands
whatever comes my way, i usually take
pick stuff out of and up from the ground
don't have any money
keep my head cool enough to take advantage of situations
scavange, opoturnism, whatever the likes, juices flowing, no inner turmoil here

human seagul

and this is just the way things have become

this is what happens when i let everything fall in a way that's apparantly natural to me

my house is a mess,
my head none the less

nothing seems real enough for me to bother changing, anyways

stuck in a pattern or just truly free

am i confused or is it my flawed perception that leads me to such a simple suspicion

you're nothing but trapped in an endless cycle of substances
to regain consciousness, but whos is it anyways


i'm alive and well and utterly confused
to the extend of not even recognising the simple shape of a bottle

knee deep in soil and blood,
you tossed it towards the sky
an orbit with a leak

our eyes work fine in great landscapes, and spot patterns to identify with
the length and width of it all



drowning out of fear in a pool of germs similar to those who live within us

shortlived nuances

 the ever apparent parentheses

sometimes greed is the only thing that keeps me sane

as my lust for self-destruction

it's a weird concoction

to slit your own troat when you're looking the other way

numb in the forhead, bleeding from your spine

when you can no longer communicate, everything is smothered in deafening beeps from your internal censorship

what is a bad day

what is inspiration

stop gnawing away on your own reasoning

trust is a liability

nothing in nature is cowered in dressing

kudos to you for thinking new

present the force through a horse

and trust that bliss is your friend

an assertive colleague

flood me with substances

stop critical thinking

continue being vague

good luck in life as you try on a new suit

pale faces, no idomatic responses

a lump in the brain

what is control, what is ability

what is life

but research for your own obituary

silent and dizzy

don't diss me

dismiss the disease

decrease and cease

drag the iron out of irony

put your hemoglobin to the test
don't rest

dehydrated, collapse in the forest

time to leave
fall is here


rot beneath a layer of leaves




i'm cold and neglected
the inner demons roam again

nothing left for the poor
but an apology

finish your crisps now

a day of simple sensory sensations
clean clothes, a shower, fresh air

and your head in a beehive

motionless inner turmoil
young blood, eternal wrath

amputate memories
always so inadequate

drive and cry,
the need for wipers on the inside

counting hours is boring

i really did grow up in the woods

and no, i haven't changed much

recently realising this is my only legacy, the blog actually kind of died.

i guess going through hell will take a certain amount of painful hours anyways.
best get crackin'... no fucking way.

everything sounds like everything and everybody else. repeat....... deep frustration, please, in need of inspiration. cut your catface open, cry blood, alive in the void.

dope. nod your head slowly. vibes. flies. fuckers and suckers. soak it all in your infections.

rebuild the dust into pretty shapes, exhibit some order and win awards.

don't listen to yourself. monitor reactions. keep track of that great pulsating collective mind.

pay in flat metals that has a worth greater than its real weight. build planes out of papers and use the wind out of your own struggling lungs

light is all you need.

buy cheap castles and bomb your neighbors with acid.

hang a horse by the tail until it turns into a desert.

restless, tired, in need of apples

sick sick siccccccck

who cares
nothing pretty here

lost
lost lost lost

alone, restless, bothered and bored

beer, music, nicotine
just to feel remotely alive

haunt yourself with the dead ghosts within.

sensationally hollow

some odd moments out

images i don't use because something:

snus

higher resolution? getting there?

spoiled useless brat

tin me, please

i want to be ww3 supplies

hand me that beer something needs to die

all i ever do
desperate attempts at escaping

it really doesn't matter
we're doomed

struggle all you want,
feed your frustration

good luck in life,
shallow bonding over something mediocre

nobody likes the same as you
loneliness everywhere

swallow the pride
nothing to hide
give me that nail gun

yes i am a child

no metamorphosis
larvas everywhere
scum scum scum

numb dumb

unravel

oh the mysteries i myself struggle to comprehend

everything's missing

little lazy fatass, growing off seeds from your work

this is how to break all the rules

admit it

you've grown weary of me


scroll scroll scroll

no insight of mine ever last longer than a fragmented second

i'll try not to try

bark as if you're stuck

some of the images that didn't turn out all white, pink or pixelated.

somebody on the wall

t rex ass
texas

when jaga jazzist makes you cry
you finally know what beauty is

my camera started playing tricks on me in murica. some of the recorded files were just plain white. some were covered in pink with a banner of noise on top. and some were 'fine', yet overexposed as hell. i tried editing the pink one to make it look ok, and this was the best result i got:

it really didn't matter on this pics behalf, since my memory-card was obedient enough to record an original file as well. for comparison:

how does this happen. i could take a lot of other pictures after a pink one turned up and all i got was a copy of that one.

i therefore took a lot less images than i would have originally. that's is kind of sad. had to use my little lumix instead, which does not make up for the loss of my brilliant 5D. at least not in such noisy conditions as the previous image. iso 3200, f/2.0 at 1/60.

dusty toothpaste

no pressure no diamonds

tonight i dreamt i was attacked by small, evil and insane birds that wanted to kill me. when i woke, i realised those birds are after me all the livelong day.

which is why everything smell of vomit.

gnarly

was there need for creation

 the Just do it is actually a good slogan

slowly but surely turning into an alcoholic

when i should be out running in the forest instead

no i'm about to end up dead

my fair share of doing decent stuff, being structural and obedient is by far over

i'm in a new age now. as it has been for almost three years. with a lot of drinking and not much else on the agenda. i'm empty. i've always had an old soul and it has managed to catch up on me.

there is nothing left.

twisting this rag wont result in much.