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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

(>__>)

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?

-

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.

-_-

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.