Loneliness

Loneliness is bliss, sometimes. Not really.

Dealing with loneliness is tough. It creeps on your back, and feels like whips lashing on your fragile skin. It can be a slow and painful death, that makes you fade away, little by little. The story of my loneliness is unmatched, and unimaginable.

Spending your days, with patience and hopefulness is a tiresome lifestyle. The patience, of finally being relieved and uplifted from this ghastly burden laying on your soul is fucking miserable. A truly bittersweet feeling. It’s often said that patience is key, well fuck that. I don’t know how long one can last in this drivel. As for hopefulness, it only makes you hopeless. The fact that you know yourself, and the fact that everything you long for, comes back to bite you in the ass, is dreadful. I’ve been hopeful for so long that I lost track now.

Loneliness is something I don’t even wish upon my worst enemies. You know man, I keep trying. That’s the thing, I guess. I should just stop at this point. I suppose some people were bound to stay alone forever. I am sick and tired of cliche and trite relationships or hook ups. It’s unnatural to lead such a life. I truly feel like I’m missing the sincere part of feeling wanted, and this is a fundamental human feeling. It is one of the few things missing from my life, but it affects more than it should I suppose.

We live in such a weird time, and place right now. We’ve reached the point, where the mutual feeling of love and affection, is hard to achieve. This is what I’m witnessing every single day. People just keep drifting away from each other, in every single way possible. Be it love, family, or friends man. It’s just a vicious cycle of people dismantling the natural aspect of oneness and the desire to be what we have to be. Everyone is so fucking nihilistic, sarcastic, and intent on being the worst possible version of themselves. I don’t know what is sparking all this damn mania in everyone. I don’t know… Is everyone lonely as well? At this point, It might be the case.

All I know is that, one day, I want to fill in this tiny but huge gap right in the center of my soul. I truly hope this day can come quickly. I want my loneliness to go away. Or maybe I don’t. It’s said that satisfaction is the death of desire. Maybe my loneliness is what keeps me going. The thing that kills me the most, is what’s keeping me alive. That’s a pretty fucking wonderful life if you ask me.

Struggle

Struggling is always fun!

Struggling and suffering,
trying to stay afloat.

Lying on my bed,
wishing I was on a boat,
stranded in the middle of the ocean
with the waves carrying my soulless soul,
deep down to the ground, into my final resting hole.

Seething with the mundane everyday,
adding to the wallowing misery at bay.

Facing the mirror,
obsolete, and full of demise and joy,
I prance around like a lunatic
waving to death,
who’s reluctant and coy.

‘Should I save him, or should I not’
‘Should I save him, or should I not’

Paradigm

We live in a paradigm world.

X marks the spot
And love conquers all.
X marks the spot,
Face first through the wall.

Running wild and free from care,
Broken down and bruised,
The world to it’s knees,
Full of despair.

Sunshine and rainbows,
Beauty and wonder,
Death and destruction,
Disruption and corruption,
Blazing flames
And plunder.

A world full of mystery,
Sorrows and woes.
Friends and family,
Enemies and foes.

I marvel at this existence
As strange as it might be,
Longing to belong,
To a world of life and death,
To a world of fact and fiction.

Paradigms and strangeness
And changes.
A part of who we are.
It’s all alright,
We’ll either rise or fall.

House

It all goes away.

Torn wallpaper, canvas hiding the scars.

Chandelier weeping, crystal drops filling the sky.

Tables sleeping and chairs empty, deathly restfulness.

Food hollow, swaying in the kitchen.

Closets full of despair and secrets, lives forgotten.

Wires hanging, free from the chains of light,

existing with bliss and enjoyment,

hugging and tangled with another, complete.

Statues melting and fading with the looming darkness,

death of spirit slow.

T.V’s and radio’s, technology raw and exposed,

extinct and forever gone.

No sound and no whisper, utter silence.

Concrete walls of nothingness,

the nothingness becomes us.

We become the nothingness.

Lives fulfilled, harvested and grown,

All for none, and none for all.

Just like the fading empty house,

We are always alone,

for eternity.

Silence

Don’t be silent, look at me. Love me.

I sit on the balcony
Cigarette in my mouth,
4 A.M, complete silence.
Just like hers.

Silence is cruelty
Silence is death
Silence is crippling my soul,
Please, don’t be silent anymore.

I’m trying to reach you,
But some part of me
Is keeping ground, hesitation.
The quietness isn’t making me sure.

Beauty and soulfulness
Combined with your tranquility,
And your convoluted self.
I can be the remedy,
The cure to your silence.

Please, think about me,
As much as I think about you.
Please, love me as much
As I’ll love you.

Don’t be silent anymore,
Be clamorous and loquacious,
For I will cherish you and hold you
I’ll never let go,
I’ll always be there,
Just let me,
Before it’s too late.

Beirut

My hateful and lovable home, Beirut.

Beirut,
Destruction and alluring zen
Love and heart ache
A place of peace and war

The grit of structure
Buildings in the shape of bullet holes
Metal containers hugging people to sleep
With the beauty of the architecture
Grand designs and lavish concrete
Green trees and garbage
Provides a strange and peculiar mix

People of all difference
Difference of thought, of belief
Of unbelief, and of all unusual walks of life
It’s strange alright

Images of refugee families
Sleeping on the sidewalks
Right next to the club and pub goers
The poor and the rich, all the same
Drunken and miserable Beiruti millennials
Feeding on the chaotic surroundings
Turning them into monsters of sadness
Pictures of a better life unseen

I’m lost, a disorder of existence
I love Beirut, but Beirut hates me

I’ve nothing here, but
Heartache and war
I grew up too fast
Most grow up too fast here
Beirut is for the privileged
An unforgiving place for those who can’t
And for those who won’t

Streets with a million ales and tales
Of people and things
Stories of happiness and stories of sadness
An imperfect mixture, an anomaly
Beirut,
The perfect anomaly
My hateful and lovable home.