realization

Pt. 1

i live in a blank world of infinite paths. paths which route to nothing, therefore, entering a path will lead you only to inexistence.

forever i am bound in this inescapable dream. sullen, i drown in the depths of darkness.

apathy, i call upon the immaterial.

surreal. abstract. lies.

with that, i continue to fail to trust the world. i still hold the belief that the world is not real. i can be sure that death is the only path to truth.

however, i am afraid of the truth. i am even confused as to which truth is real.

there might not be truth at all.

after all, no one, can rightfully tell the truth.

 

---

 Pt. 2

at present, the truth is only defined by general acceptance. explanations and proofs are only persuasion. algorithms are made to be followed as to meet the problem result and requirement.

we can now come to the conclusion that we are forced existences. we have been predefined. we are not of our free will. still, that isn’t the truth.

there is no truth at all.

so what becomes of this?

nothing.

every word that has been said carries no thought and meaning.

everything then has been useless.

false, broken.

Alternation

I would like to ask.

Floor. The cold, static plane. Unmodified.

A question, that is.

Visual apathy. Non-discordance. Forlorn apt conjectures.

An inquiry, of you would define.

A colloquial tesseract. Cordial vector substitutionality.

A statement follows.

An argument arise.

Is there really an answer to the question?

The divinity of definition.

The recreation of abnormality.

The rigorous process of concatenation.

The construction of chaos.

There is none that I knew of.

Silence. Stillness. Absent.

I could still make an opinion.

Rejection of qualified proof.

Was there even a question?

Existence. Undefined.

There is; nothing.

The undenial.

Was there even evidence of such?

The classical example.

There is; no proof.

The collection.

The archives.

I am not confused.

You are discombobulated.

Mirrors as reflections of darkness.

Corpses as meanings of life.

The actual illusion.

Therefore, there is no need.

To ask.

To know.

Solemn. Beautiful. Appalling.

There is only one more statement.

The Foolish. Do not understand.

dupes!?

no. they aren’t.

http://iamexistent.blogspot.com is now officialy the duplicate of this blog. Why? To gain followers, silly.

Although, i started a new blog at Tumblr which is, different.

Be sure to actually visit that thing. Thank you very much.

linearity

To think that the prelude to my future would be like this, a melancholic, distant tune of eternal emptiness…

a melody of mixed emotions and feelings. but, apathetic.

you are about to witness a stream of incomprehensible, torrent, of text. vague, ambiguous text that heeds no wisdom, contains no thought, void of such entity called structure.

nullified, i aimlessly fire my words. i write, such pointless literature. with no particular reason, i caress my canvas and brush my uncollected mind towards nothingness.

---

i was thinking of the present. my present state of existence. should my present state satisfy my dear, future of choice? no.

i was thinking of what action i should execute. should my selection confirm the assurance of my satisfaction? no.

i was thinking of other beings. should they suffice my incompleteness? no.

i was thinking of my death. would i die now? later? tomorrow? i consciously wait for the arrival of my final hour. i am hoping, it would arrive. soon.

i was thinking, i might be dead.

the world i live in now is a memory. a world of certain unreality. a blank white colored world. satisfying? there is no notion of starvation in the first place. all, is there, but gone.

then what role am i to play in this farce? should i be the slave? the villager? the knight? the protagonist? no, i am them all! a hero who’s role is to consume everything in sight, dancing while tearing the theater apart. a drama. a drama whose audience is the drama itself.

an applause! there was an applause? no. it is the world breaking apart.

as the only actor in the stage, i kneel down and look up.

the sky… is bright.

i cannot look up after all. my eyes hurt from the brilliance of the shattering sky.

footsteps? no, there weren’t any. it’s just rubble from the falling earth.

the world is finally destroyed.

---

i wear the burden of conscience.

i wield the sword of lies.

i step on the ground of failure.

---

a fool.

a douche.

a blind man.

a deaf man.

but, still, rational.

only if there was no truth.

null salvation.

The Death of Eternity

a table of no holes, a chair of no legs, discord
an envelope of languages, a creed of denouement
give me the anatomy of your diligence
the core of your loyalty.

behold. the new machine of creation.
the destruction of the new future.

the alphabet of your words do not suffice.
the rhymes of your song never attains.
you do not understand. you fail to comprehend.
I have brought justice to it's feet.
you cannot stand up.
you cannot pick up.

behold. the new machine of thought.
the perfection of the new vessel.

measure my incomprehensibility,
subdue my incapacity.
there will be no such meaning to my words.
there will be no such meaning to my words.
there will be no such meaning to my words.
there will be no such meaning to my words.

strained. defiled. deprecated.
filth. blight. diseased.

hold your breath. strangle your neck.
pull your tongue. crack your skull.
you will not die, after all, you will not decay.

I cause the infinity to collapse.
I made the incalculable continue.
I am the god of my new world.
A new world in which I am god.

a nuisance?

It was 3:00 am and I am still sitting on a chair, in fetal position, and is in front of a device that could only tell me to slap my brain of it’s thought and juice. I’m actually still thinking of what to write in this post since the blog is about 1 month dormant (In which I think, is very inactive, oh well, not that it is required to be…). It’s actually bugging me this days, that notion in which, I really have to put something in my blog. So, I ended up writing this frivolous paragraph whose aim is to give my simplistic thought time to think about anything interesting. To the author. And that is me.

This blog is to my satisfaction, although I would love to see the charts change sometime. It’s quite boring you know? Not having any visitor at all? Mind you, all posts are in the front page, in their complete form. It’s just that, YOU SHOULD READ THEM, at least. Anyways, like I said, this blog is to my satisfaction. I write not to entertain, I write to vent. I write not to pleasure, I write to contemplate. The times wherein I post something here are the times in which I find myself melancholic, thus, the Gothic mood of some entries, and the deep irrationality of the essays. I feel myself more in those times.

Now it has come to a time where I cannot think like that anymore. I actually feel sad about that. I cannot find the me that can write those things anymore. I don’t know, I may just not be in the mood. Who knows?

Not that you care. Well, I don’t think you would. You do not even exist. The you who would read this crap. Now I am sadder.

To realize that you just write this in air, then nothing.

Empty.

Hello? Do you speak my language? I can speak yours.

E^TGUEFH(&Y#R&Y*(#U*(EY@*&@&*#*@&$*@&$@*(#)*@()#*()@UDJ*EMC)(J*#GFIEJV*e8vhf7HY89y&#y&ryy#&Yr&)*@u(ijodwks..

That is not gibberish. It has structure and grammar. You do understand it. And you have no choice but to. It is a fact. A proposition whose truth value is 1.

Now I am being silly. No. I might be being silly, but I am not. It is only a materialization of some thought that this blog entry has something to do with a spaceship from the sea. I can read your mind though. And I know that you are now lost in thought. And in sync with the oneness of disorientation.

Back to the topic. But where is the topic. Should I make one? No. You made one already. Its about a cat. Who is very hard to kill. And has only one life. Contrary to popular belief. That it has nine.

A cat is consigned to a limbo. A limbo is consigned to a cat. Then what happens? The world then turns upside down. Then how would I eat my sandwiches? I happen to eat the filling first. Then the bread. Then my hands. Then my arms. Then my chest. Then my feet. Then my head. Then my sandwiches.

I happen to know a thing or two about this word. It is a four letter word. And it is spelled as a word.

What now happens if I click that blue button labeled “Publish”? I hope the world will now realize that a mouse pointer cannot escape the boundaries of my monitor, except for the fact that I can buy another display, but it is still imprisoned.

Now for the finale. The man named “Poncho” grabbed a bottle of soda and shouted the following sentences in caps.

“THERE IS NO MEANING TO THIS WORLD”

And so, his life ended, because there happens to be a snake inside the bottle of soda.

thirteen days: another prolouge

I am currently in a state of paranoia. My body feels heavy; I cannot move my legs at all. I tried moving my arms and I saw a glimpse of my hands, it was drenched in a viscous red. As I try to regain my senses, I realized that lay on cold concrete. I set my eyes on the sky. A blinding light assaulted my eyes. I guess it was still noon. I cannot distinguish the totality of my surroundings, but I’m sure I am on the middle of a road. I tried to breathe in air, but my chest hurt. As I was about to ask myself to what was happening, I remembered something.

I was about to die.

Suddenly, a sound then reverberated. It was loud, and it sounded like something from a gun. Yes, it was gunshot. I felt chills; as a result, it further amplified my agony. I know I am on the queue. I tried to pray and recall my happy memories, but it was too late. My vision suddenly darkened as a shadow of a man I can’t recall blocked my field of vision.

“It will always come to this James. You can’t change the future. You will always fail to change the outcome of this world. You will, whichever, whatever you do, still die.”

Hah. It seems like I’ve heard that phrase a hundred times now. But this time, I think I will never hear it again. I wish.

The man then cocked his gun at my temples. He takes a deep breath and slowly, pulls the trigger.

 

 

When you are in the process of dying, everything seems to set in slow motion. It’s cool. It’s just like a movie, hearing and seeing every detail of your remaining 0.5 second lifespan. It must be because I have experienced this, over and over again. But still, I know, this will be the last. Well, I am hoping, really. What I have done all in this past days is useless after all. Nobody would come to my salvation. I can’t do anything. I just can’t. As I lavish my thoughts over the matter of slowly going to heaven, everything just stopped, literally.

 

Oh no, not again.

 

–

 

Crap. I couldn’t force myself to finish a story. So, I’m writing another one. To the hell with indecision.

(>__>)

the bookmark: prolouge

I stopped being like this for a while. I just stopped
doing things, those important things. Even now, I am still like that. The
reason, I don’t know. For example, I just stopped dreaming. I forgot the things
that are most important to me. Spirituality, education, even affection. I
cannot see the world as I can see it before. I, impeccably, changed. The
reason, I still do not comprehend. I can say I am just alone. It may be true,
but I have my family, and friends. I also clung to God. I may be refuting
myself, but these are what I felt. I might be wrong, but that is also a fact
that I am not sure of. I can’t seem to accept the world’s reality. That said, I
cannot believe the things as it is. Everything, as fake.

I am Mark Jayson. 17 years old. I attend college. I haven’t got enough free
time, and actually, I might have done better things than writing this soliloquy
of thought and confession. I am aware, that by doing this, nothing would
happen. Nothing would ever happen.

I used to believe the things that are often said to me.

“Study hard”. “Never lie to anyone”. “Do not hurt anybody”. “I trust in
you”. “Believe in yourself”.

I kept them as my principles. Principles which led me to the straight path.
Principles, in which, I coherently knew that it would lead me to success.

But things have changed. I was led astray. I was believing in them too
much.

I might be wrong. I might be right. I couldn’t tell. You can’t tell either.
They are just plain, irrefutable, propositions.

For that reason, I lost myself. It isn’t obvious though. I cannot tell
myself. In your point of view, I might just be cathartic. I mean, I still have
hope and such. Like what I’ve said, I have nothing to lack of, or to be
melancholic at. Such problems can be resolved easily, that which is apparent.
You might say I am not the last person in the world. There are other people
worse than me. Yes. It is very obvious, and I am fully aware of it myself. That
is the reason, why I kept myself being what I am as of now. I am not special. I
have nothing. Nothing to be proud of.

Yes. I am not that bad. I can excel over others. I am good in a thing or
two. But I still feel empty. Now that I have come to this…

What is it that led me astray?

I might have lost something. Again, I am not sure, but it is the thought
that keeps on bugging me most. Did I lose hope? Faith? Trust? Emotion? Love?

That last part stung me. I realized that it can’t be it. I am a logical
being. A being that is rational. I cannot accept that. Or do I?

an idea.

ok. this post might be a lot different from what i’m posting before. bear with it. as if anyone would be bothered. bummer.

-

well, i have decided to write a short story. that’s news. the next post has the prolouge of the said short story.

i wish i would never run out of patience and time to write this one.

-

since this story is a bit of a slice of life thingy, i find it a bit hard to recall such memories of mine that will be found appealing and interesting. anyways, i’ll try to make this one as a masterpiece, even if it might be my first time to do such feat.

-

 haha. i wish myself good luck.

-_-

 

procrastination

I was afraid. I was afraid of death.

The thought of it haunts the very cores of my soul. I shake at the sounds of my trembling bones. I walk this endless road of toil and torture. I walk the paths of thorns and torment.

I suffer.

I slowly disintegrate, together with the stale air of silence and void.Through the darkness I wallow in the seas of despair, agony filled my heart.

I was afraid. I was afraid of death.

My vision blurs, leaving me with a  dark ray of dissonance and pain. The radiating pulses of horror, such cold, numbing frost of wind. I run although my legs wouldn’t displace. A step would cause my body to suck itself, turning my flesh inside and out. The pleasure of seeing my guts engulfed me in madness, madness which overrun my soul.

Hate.

Unfulfillment which instills my very being.

Hungry for those who seek the incomprehensible, the incomplete.

I was afraid. I was now afraid of myself.

Seeing the very fruit of my insanity, I tried to obtain death. For every spear I stab on my fleeting stomach, I roar not of pain but laughter. Vengeance towards oneself couldn’t be more satisfying. Dismembered, I threw myself to the pit, hoping it would end my world.

I was afraid. I was now afraid to disappear.

I pitied myself. I know nothing could be done. What I did was irrevocable. What I did was absolute. Crying, I ventured into the well of disgrace and forgiveness.

Forever falling out of grace, forever yearning for salvation.

irrevocable

the absolute realm.

the constant flow.

the stagnant correlation of air and sound.

these are but the only things going on in my mind. such intellectual force, driving me to the depths of stability and assurance.

i thought it was peace. i thought it was calmness. i was wrong.

i was only empty. devoid of all qualms, but absent of all empathy.

…

it was the past i keep on thinking.

i shouldn’t have done that.

…

the miscalculation of the variable of continuity.

the logic for the irrational.

…

i continually regret it up to this moment.

i was weak.

…

absurd is the word for the being’s description. the manipulated matter had no rights over itself. a being of no entity. a flaw of thought. a ridge of improbability.

strings pulled equals the stillness of such action. a body of a queer lifeless object.

…

i continue to deplore my days of depression.

i am convoluted to agony and hate.

…

diminished thoughts wrap my soul. the forgery of human emotion dissolve my realm of certainty. the vast explosion of the abstinent evolution of walls stained with the viscous smell of stringent black.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

i cannot redeem myself.

i am bond to this place.

i can free thyself, yes.

i will not do that.

i will be here forever.

i will.

for the sake of preserving the past.

for the hope of salvation.

for the essence of living.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The Birth of the Underworld

abrupt noise is coming out of my veins
violently flowing
screeching, screaming
gasping for intoxication.

the otherworldy calm suffice
portruding arrows rain the skin of the sky
corrupted foundations of instability
explicit correlation of rationality
fluids spewing out of a ruptured space
everything follows.

dissident rivers of mechanical blood overcome
pure darkness of light overflow
the composition of nothingness nullified

imposing invisibility of archaic thoughts materialized.
the ardent night of neverending oppression.
the blistering dawn of neutrality.

disinterest in the current train of thought
such statements are then destroyed
for the sake of a new creation.

a new child with unecessary eyes was born
a new form of absence was brought upon
a new element of singularity
a new hope of desolation
a new formula for the end of everything.

death by information

the gravity of air envelops an excited ball of matter in such false momentum. such determination is applied integrally, resonated onto the palpitating gorges of light, an extreme performance of vibrating pressurization. threads of what we call defamation sews the entire infrastructure of solid elasticity. a stinging wave of thoroughness blinds the entire corrupted coordination of hammers and nails.
the rain of chaos, the implosion of energy, the earthquake of bits and bytes; those that continue to alter the world as we know it.

meaningless, numbers, injection, materialization

what lies after everything is done? what lies after everything disappears?

life is falsity.

death is truth.

contradiction is necessary.

agreement is an illusion.

independence is impossible.

manipulation is a must.

onward! fire! desolate! impale!
survival is not impossible, but vanity is assured.

the spinning wheels of flames and fire, igniting torrents of slick heavy water.others follow, those who follow meets genesis.
reformation. the morphing of normality. hollow. filled emptiness. optional. the only remaining form of freedom. idempotence. mirroring errors.

molds. food filled with molds. unclean. filthy. unbecoming. disgraceful.hatred.

society filled with hatred. unclean. filthy. unbecoming. disgraceful.

disorder. thought filled with disorder. unclean. filthy. unbecoming. disgraceful.

all is proclaimed. everything is predefined. the reality is programmed.

what is the question?

dreaming the reality.

the absurdity of normality.

seeking the inexistent.

all is done. everything is destroyed. the reality is doomed.

uniformity

stasis..

i am stable. the world is now moving at a constant rate. a constant rate in which everything is moving on its own. not controlled by strings. not bound to limitation.

dissonance..

the world is corrupted. they continuously deny the fact of harmony. peace is only an illusion. every mind is incoherent to the main goal of development. like shattered glass, each thought dissipates into the awkwardness of soliloquy.

paradox..

repetition. repetition of infinity. repetition of infinity of continuity. repetition of infinity of continuity without time. repetition of infinity of continuity without time is redundant. repetition of infinity of continuity without time is redundant to the thoughtless. repetition of infinity of continuity without time is redundant to the thoughtless who thinks. repetition of infinity of continuity without time is redundant to the thoughtless who thinks that there is no end. there is no end. no end. end.

bias..

the truth is locked in between the palms of injustice. he would never show it to anyone. blame then belongs to no one.

fortitude..

souls, yearning for salvation. they stood before it. they rose up and screamed. helpless cries echoed through the room. deafening. but the one who was called remained silent. he only gave them pity. lifeless, he fell down. madness engulfed them. eating what’s left of him, they asked for forgiveness. he remained silent.

then. i stopped breathing. i died.

defiance

shoot me.

shoot me dead.

do not leave me alive…

there is nothing left, all is consumed…all have decayed…all is lost…

there is no hope…
there is no light…

what will become of emptiness? from the fruitless birth of undaunted deterrence, will the brave soul prevail?

burn. burn. burn.
smell the roots of disdain as it crumbles to insignificant pieces…

dance. dance. dance.
move towards the darkness who tells the ruthless truth…

kill. kill. kill.
stab the light that blinds the one who seeks eternity…

hide. hide from yourself. watch out for your reflection.
run. run from the wind. reach out for your salvation.

All may be lost, but it is not something we should sacrifice for…

Oppression is the worst enemy of resistance…
Denial can be a weapon.
A silent murder of the thought.
A silent murder of the heart.

Soulless…Nothing can see its emotions…

The flowing of the smooth rivers of insanity corrupts the existence of its being…Madness instills riddance for resolution…

What have come to thee? Melancholic, afraid from a blurred vision of what may be real…

Rise up! do not listen to them.
Fight back! have faith in yourself.

For what has to come, is always expected…
It will, regardless of technique, be destroyed…

contemplation

4:56 AM..

Monday, February 28, 2011.

it’s the same. nothing really was of interest. i can expect that the day would pass, even without knowing its existence. i sit, in front of my screen, thinking…

like before, i am going nowhere.. as i continue my journey to emptiness, what can i expect to see?

a black void. a rudimentary world. an opaque sky.

these things are the only ones existent in my thoughts. furthermore,

i am satisfied.

Why?

The world tells me i am not. Then what is going on with my view of the world? is it wrong? is it just?






I don’t know. besides, what i know, defines my truth.

falsity does not exist in my thought.












it can only be true, or wrong.

corrosion

i am lost…again…in my thoughts…










without composure…i dwell, in my wildest dreams, lucidly watching the world as it sleeps…




i am clouded…vague…

now, i am slowly rebuilding my fragmented mind…like an abstract puzzle…a puzzle with no fitting parts…






hopeless..






slowly dying by the real vision of the world…calling my haunted dreams with a faint lullaby…




no…




i cannot be consumed by this ocean…
but i am drowning..








i haven’t found myself after all…
i am still…














dying.

blank

what?

i have been longing for the future, waiting for time to decay, all, fading away, drowning…

I want to see it, the things that will happen…for i know of nothing to predict… Time had cut me the ability of doing this, in the world where it is possible for impossible to exist… Thus, if it is such, the definition of impossible carries the truth of it being exact and correct, therefore possible…

Man had searched for truth ever since its creation… He has defined the world, the present reality, and existence itself… There has been no limit to what he has to know because what he knows are things that have been created by himself. Using the mind, conscience, thought, he stood on a world defined by his very existence.

As reality was molded, man discovered flaws in it. Not everything conformed to his desires. Then came the fact that the world has its own mind, conscience, thought, and thus, existence… He came to realize that he had only defined everything…

There came the idea that there must be someone who came before the world, created it together with mind, conscience, thought, and existence…

Am i dreaming? Man had defined things relating to life, but had he realized if he really exists not as a part of another existence?

What if we are asleep?

Is the reality we are in omniscient? Is it the real reality or is it a dimension created together with another, in which thru our present state we cannot know?

I don’t really care. It is because of the fact that, the answer itself is:

“a thing in which i will never know, for if i will know, such shall defy the existence of the mind, conscience, thought, and existence itself.”

nothing

i want escape the reality in which we are in. from the void, the vastness of the thoughts of my soul, to be engulfed by the bane of darkness. the moon calls my name. i hear it whispering, telling me to coax my imagination. to drown in the virtual non-existent. to flaw my mind with the sea of emptiness.

drifting…afar…

running…away…

following the voice of the stars in the empty sky…

i lie, asleep…

zzZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….

substantial

impossible is defined as the bypass of the actual laws of logic and physics bearing the truth that it is incalculable mathematically and fundamentally wrong.. It is the limitation of reality..

Knowledge was bourne to the deep roots of human endeavor.. Humans are created, carrying the longing of understanding all things, even his own existence.. Destroying the borders of actual information and going beyond impossibilities are the results of human’s thirst for understanding..

Humans have defined the imposssible still, he continues his search for ways to break its barrier..with his limitless mind, he continues to abstract, searching for the real truth.. To obtain and to be, a perfect being.

A being of defiance, with power to create a universe.. A life of completeness..

you!

i am a being, created not to live by myself.. I was created to interact with other beings, be it my kind or not.. Trigger emotion to express self. Display movement to create animation.. Speak to communicate..

I see them everyday. I see them pass through me. I see them interact with the rest of the world.. I see you as a part of the universe.. A universe that is changing.. Moving as time flows.. As the humans order..

You, existent.. Coexists with other beings.. Coexists, with me.. A human that is born to die.. A being that exists to be forgotten..

Same. Equal. Synonymous.

I corresponding to you, a mere human..

me?

the world is a habitat of creatures who are rational, otherwise, irrational beings.. Humans are the rational ones, the one with a mind of their own, capable of deciding on their own free will. Free agents as they are called.. They watch the world. They observe the world in their own perspective. They apprehend, forming ideas from the massive collation of data assimilated by their senses.. From their ideas they make things, things that would satisfy their thirst, their hunger, and their longing for understanding the world. Their reality.

I watch them think. I look at their decisions. I see them concieve. I contemplate at their ideas which are put into motion. I discern them as a human.

Now what does it make out of me? A speck in the universe? A hallucination of reality? No.

I am but a human.

Limited by my own weaknesses, judged by the existence of other beings, a man of free will, egotistic in nature, but pure at heart.

I am but a human.

why i am here?

for some reason, i started blogging on wordpress. I think i am bored. I think i just lack some sleep. I think i just want to do someting and it is a thing that i want to know.

As a human, i think. I think about the things that exist in the apparent reality. I think about how the world took it’s place in my thoughts. I think about what to think.

I am writing this blog, at 2:39 am. I haven’t had sleep. I do not want to. I want to watch time as it runs in my brain. I see the world running in my perspective. I only see it as it is seen by my senses.

How about the others? The ones with a different view of the earth. The ones who also think. The ones with senses, not like mine.

I exist. I exist as a part of my reality. I exist as a part of my world.

Do the ones exist also? I don’t know. If they exist, it is existence in a way that i could never understand.

If you exist, let me know, so i can be part of your reality.