Timothy

Jack's Twisted Kingdom
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2012-07-31 03:55:48 (UTC)

wolves in the folded clothing

Every exit is an entry somewhere else ~Tom Stoppard

I feel nauseous. I heard something about someone, who was (is) important in not a small way, and all I feel is. numb. and it wasn't even really about them, so much as their reaction to things that has me, quite, disgusted, and I'm not even sure it's because I was once enamored with them or if because I had assumed things about them that, well, have turned out to be, rather unfair, and untrue. there's a growing consensus within my overworking head, that I aught to purge, divest myself of all things that bring me sorrow and pain, woe and, well, just, things, that just lend themselves to the old adage. bridge burning 101, burn it to the ground. who needs bridges anyways?

ahh yes, the tripe that froths forth some days eh? I don't think it's unwarranted though. I'm just tired of being used and cast aside. although I often wonder if it's not because of one thing or another I've done, but then I believe myself to be perfect. haha. even I don't believe it. it's just sad though. things are coming to end. I intend, to end things. spurious companionship's are all the rage these days, so why not delve headlong into the abyss? I see no other affectation deliberately halting the advance, my equilibrium is at an all time cognitive dissonance, with my heart black and cracked, black as pitch, black as the foulest witch. My countenance is as worthless as, well, anything I can think of.

I shall bear the burden of my own failures, the way a leper wear his rags, and I shall weep, and then, I shall sleep, and never dream of these sad jagged tines representative of my romantic, fleeting, overtures, ever again. the end you see, it comes sooner than you think. and there is no life raft, no kindling to hang on to, no rope to grasp, you see friends, dear hearts, enemies and wanderers all, in the denouement, the play itself has already ended, and before the curtain falls, we, you and I, shall be at an end. its ok to be scared. its ok to weep. its ok to not even care a wit at all, for all things in their time. and the time has come. the curtain falls. ever so lightly.


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