HAUNTED

Numb out of my skull, listening to orchestra: such nice useless feeling.

Each time I sat alone, couldn't help but think of people that wronged me and me
them.

It's overbearing sometime. The ghosts of it all seem to find me wherever I hide; it
have no mercy, It wanted my soul.

That why I smoke and drink: even that couldn't chase them away.
They grow strong as my soul weaken. To a point: I would just stand still and let
them eat away.

Then, out of the ashes, vomit and shit that the beast left behind. Some of me
emerged. I've emerge from the worst kind of places and things.

Oh ! how I've lived and died.

Men couldn't get me, women couldn't stand my stare. So down the hole I go, to wash
the shit left by the beast, and the vomit by the people. As I've stayed so long in
the hole, human begin to disgust me. And as the law of karma dictate or whatever,
they're disgusted of me. So I learnt to loved the disgusting as to be loved back by
the disgusted. Isn't a virtues, might not work.

Oh! how nice it is to die...

a book written in hell for demon and ghost.

word written with blood and piss and sperm.
eyes that never seeing..
ear that never stop listening.
heart that never stop aching.
thing that are out of controll.
a book of word can be understand in a thousand way.
light somewhere amidst this darkness.
notice it, love it, appreciate it.
this word of mine came out flawlessly and without trying.
chew on it, mix your saliva with it, spit it out on the ground and look at it from
above.
try and not try. don't even think at all it flow out. along with my gut and my
intestine.
let see how many kninfe i can place in your heart and how much i pain i can stir in
your heart.
let see into the future, let jump off a cliff. in our imagination maybe. let go.
let move this stagnant energy and go somewhere, be someplace. anywhere but here.
but here follow us everywhere, and here is inside.

what are you looking at ?

where have your eyes have been?
don't you know what i am already? you want me to fight for my name?
take the name keep the money. give me space and pain. i'll make blood rainbow for
you.
don't let me come over there and piece my teeth into your vein.
stay mad or stay away. you know my forest. you know my cave.
this beast of us. this beast inside of each one.
this beast of human form.
us in another plane.
this creature looking out when our soul in hunger.
for fun or for real?

WOULD BUT COULDN'T

I have this terrifying urge for death; uncontrollable feeling of almost being pull
out of my body.

The electricity, the nervous system, the spirit. I can almost feel it wanted to
leave. A kind of tickle at my whole being. Something in me really wanted to fly
out, to go to somewhere and anywhere but here.

Oh! how I'm tired beyond tired. How I've tired so expressively even the dog afraid
of me when I finally turn to give my deadly piecing stare.

Oh! how the tree and the river hug me when I was so pathetic: over-laughing about
the stupid things, I've used to do and still does.

Oh! how god have disappointed in me so many times. So many chances. So many
regrets.

Dear! my dear if only I could explain everything. If only there was a word: kind
enough to describe my soul. If only life could've been a little more kind at the
beginning. If only the women didn't leave and accept me as I am. If only I wasn't
too much of a bastard. If only I could find the right sentence that my heart was
looking for. And maybe, just maybe, my life would have some meaning. And maybe only
until then, I finally able to live.

Ohh! I haven't live at all. The thing inside of me wouldn't let me. And people, the
people wouldn't let me be.

SHIT FLOWER
Drunk almost everyday, loveless, lonely and fearful.
Waiting for something, waiting for love.
Dying, death, madness, only god can save me, but he won't.
He only send sign, I suck at following sign.

I'm in hell and I started to like it here.

didn't vomit, didn't care, didn't give a dog shit.

spitting into beer can that i've just finished.
barely able to hold myself together, barely want to live.
i spit again, drink the last drop of another can.
getting ready to smoke my ciggarate and spit some more.

NOTHING
The women only want sweet words.
The stray cat grow mentally strong and don't want our touch.
The men want to be cool.
The teachers want respect but have nothing to be respected for.
The parent want to be proud.
The whore want to be fuck.
People go to extreme lengths to get what they want.

I alone want the world or nothing at all.

IDK
Being too weird, try too hard, the women's stare, her bitterness.

What is this? this feeling of completely being pull down to earth, the weirdness,
the strange feeling on your face, what is that? some kind of downgrade?

I must not seek some like this again. Too hard, too short coming, too strong at
wrong feeling. feeling, and dog asshole. A child beheaded like cutting a
watermelon, red, and redder, cold, and colder. Darkness and black and gone.

I was loved, I had loved, and that hole that will never be filled.

Gone, dead, lost. My sweetest love of things have gone from me. My ideal. My
perfection.

Oh dear god...'

INTOXICATION
Bitch, whore, slut, fuck-boy, thief, robber, rapist, people that hit their mother,
people that aren't people. human that so so drunk at something: maybe love, pain,
new thing, new feeling, gangster feeling, drug, knife, gun, hot women, not so hot
dumb bitch.

I feel like all road of life lead to hell. Just sooner now or later after. Some
choose their own drink, some let the bartender choose for them. Either way being
drunk is the only way to enjoy and handle reality without our mind crack in half.
Fuck life, let it be. Fuck you, let me be me.

WRITING
Something flowing and beautiful. A writing notion. I loved it. Such simple and soft
and life worst living again.

To write even when the brain is empty and the heart is haunted.
To write like the devil possessed. My word flow, please!, it is needed. In this
time of a thing like this.

God why are you so awful!

The world is awful, people who think otherwise are either have their head stuck
inside their ass or never got a slap in the face, not once.

Philosophy that people talk about is a joke. They can't form the word, they use
children language to explain life long question. Fuck!

But I'm still looking for the WORD.

As something moving my hand to write, as random thought keep coming.

Please, let me scream, let it be heard.

A JOKE
compare. two thing: side to side; to make people feel better, motivated and in
controlled. what about other? with nothing to even compare. who wouldn't even dare
compare.
the pain, the money, the lobster on the table. you want that ? what have you got
already?
you compare because you want that lobster? to compare the past, the present? to
compare to the rich?
why? to not be poor? the rich fuck with the rich, the poor can't fuck with the
rich, so the rich can fuck each other. and the poor fuck each other.
so dirty, so flirty, so open and nobody give a shit. i can already see your inside.
can you believe it?
i really can see it. you have nothing, rich or poor. can i fuck you tonight? can
the universe really allowed such an action?
there will alway be thing to compare to, for better or worst. comparing isn't alway
work for everybody, choose your method before it too late.
FLOWING WORD
I smell gasoline. I see a yellow flower. My armpit stink and it hurt too. The loud
noise of a fan like a knife cutting my ear. My finger is soft like a baby touch. My
heart is hollow at 5:11 AM in the morning. It is now 5:11AM in the morning. My
brain is empty, I write what my finger told me. My name is nobody will never be
anybody or will be a god.

No man can never be understanding for long with me, they seem like they understood.
But I think it a joke for I am not easy to understand and they just wanna be a good
person by pretending to understand or they do really understand but it only a bit
on their level. Never fully understood I assumed. The awful sounded bird scream at
5:15AM like it's wanted my soul or wanted me to go to sleep. I never sleep, I
dream. I don't sleep, I only dream about the future or the other parallel me or my
desire or whatever the dream work. I don't know, symbolism I guess. Thy shall know
that my greatest fear is the fear of meaninglessness, like an empty vase placed in
an awful place with nothing inside just for a show that this place have a vase.

The meaninglessness like after a jack-off, like smoking a cigarette nonstop because
you can't stop because you have nothing to do, that kind of meaninglessness, like
death, like nothingness, like game over forever. Cannot play again, forever
meaningless. Loud noise at midnight drive me crazy, feel like going crazy is
actually already crazy at some point but didn't noticed it yet. Already dead but
didn't realize it yet. Already gone in the head but have no clue of knowing. Gone,
forgotten, left out, never invited, disgusted by, unpleasant to look at, lonely and
alone. Lonely but not alone, lonely but with god, talking to god and not lonely.
Life it is. Love it must not, fucking fuck yes.

Charles Bukowski told me once in my dream, that the thing about writing is the
thing, the thing, You know, THE THING. I didn't know what the thing is, I think I
know now. I THINK. Then away he goes, with a bottle in his hand, walking like a
madmen, a drunkard, I look at him with admiration, he treat me like his student,
his son, he know that I will get the thing, maybe I do now man.

Someday, when I don’t see a point to anything anymore. when any reason to continue
on living had fly out the window. when the sky is darker than usual. when my heart
is much heavier than normal. when friends is nowhere to be seen. on that day, I see
myself in the flash of an eyes, drive a knife into my heart, to kill what remain of
me. School never taught us about how dangerous loneliness really is. When all you
want to do is talk to someone, but no one is in sight. when all you want to do is
sit with someone not talking at all. just sitting and looking at the sky, when
someday all you want was just little attention from whomever. That day is the most
dangerous day. because anything could drive you mad, could even make you pick up
that knife and end it all away. that day is the most loneliest day. That day you
started to question every life choices that you’ve ever made. every friendship
you’ve ever involve to see if it was any meaning to all of it. That day is the
deadliest day a human can possibly live in. the day that even the friendliest cat
turn it back on you. Loneliness doesn’t came from having no one with you.
loneliness come from within, loneliness creep up on you like a snake waiting for a
moment to snatch your life away. The dangerous of loneliness can drive a good man
insane, can make the most manliest man cry.
Sitting in the dark corner of the room, waiting for something, for someone to call
you up, to spend his little attention is enough. but that day no one is in sight.
darkness creep into your heart. and tomorrow will never be the same, or it is the
same. in a sense that the loneliness will never leave you like everyone does. While
all my friends are out drinking, forgetting about me. I sat alone in a room waiting
for death to come and enter my soul.

This pang of reality hurt too much.

The spear is too sharp with a dirty tip. A sudden realization of everything gone
wrong. Disgusting feeling. A hopeless suffocated feeling of something eating at
your heart. All you can do is watch.

Can't even cry about it. Can't even scream. The fucking feeling of getting fucked
away from everything you love or stand for.

I sometime thought who made me this way. Answer is always the same.

It either god or my parent.

I cursed god.

The gentle touch of a soft wind. The flowers that we forgot to adore in our time of
distress. A good cold beer on a-soul crushing day. No friend to talk to. No loyal
woman to love. A Saturday night with no where to go.

A life that I can't wait to end.

REGRET
grin my teeth tightly cause my time is near, i grin with all my might when i think
of what i could've become.
my life, my dear life, my pathetic journey, my hours that i haven't live fully.
the mother that i've wronged, the father that i sometime want to punch, and
sometime want to hug.
my days, my glorious days. my women that i could've loved more.
my soul, oh damn my soul. it is the fucking thing that make me, me.
the thing that make me so unique, daring, and unlovable.
fuck this life. fuck these people, these friends, this family that i can't be real
with.
fuck it all. my last word would be fuck this whole entire earth.

OYSTER
Waiting for my oysters, so I can go to the bar to own the vibe.
Waiting for my oyster to eat to rise my sexual energy.
Waiting, imagining, I need to rise.

I need to own what left it is that I can own.

I jack off too much on previous days.

I need the oyster to be back, I will eat 15 of the thing, and I'll go to the bar
and hopefully fuck someone.

Writing and waiting and drinking beers because I don't want to eat anything else.
Beer to fill the stomach, oyster to fill the soul, to make life worst living once
more.

3AM sunday, jobless and drunk. Might be 4 AM friday who know who care. There i was
in a rural area in the middle of the city( place that aint suppose to be rural)
with trash and left-over wood and cement and shits all over the place. It is dark
and the police keep driving errand making me even more paranoid. My first time
buying drug, more specific meth. In that area the village cramp together side by
side, a one way village with a dead end or who know. It full of people that u know
in ur gut something is wrong with them. I drive in there looking for a suspicious
guy to buy drug. I drive in until the people sitting block the way and i turn back(
it a small dirt road). In my head i must to get the thing. So i go back but half
way to the end a women holding her child called out to me " u wanna buy IT " yeah i
said. She told me to wait out on the front of the village ( a very fucked up
village). So i did. I wait. And a guy come and said how much i want. I said 10
dollars. He said wait and go back in that filthy road into the village. Gone he
goes. Another guy also waiting for my guy. He came back bring the drug to that guy
and told me to wait again. Another guy came along riding on his motor asking me " u
wanna buy IT" ( i noticed everyone in and around that shithole are very paranoid,
might be because of the drug, even the one holding the baby and the damn baby seem
freak out). I didn't answer him. I still wait for my guy. I look around all i see
is straw and cigarettes and trash. Alot of it. The guy spoken again. I told him i
want 10 dollars worst. He reach into his pocket pull out 2 small packs and handed
them to me. I look at it. The moment i saw it i know it fake. But i still took the
chances on account of the police driving back and forth every goddamn second. I
can't wait any longer. I panicked. I grab the thing and headed home without saying
goodbye to "my guy". As soon as i was home i take it out. Process it and set it on
aluminum to smoke. Damn to god. The shit didn't melt. With the contact of fire the
things just get more cloudy than it did before. A cloudy rock is not a pure rock. I
fucking curse the guy. He probably take my money and buy it from my guy that was
going to get the real shit for me. Poor fuck. Poor night. A fucking disgusting
place to step foot in.
I would never return there again in this life or the next.
All the will leaving my body, the energy left my soul. I'm drained. There a big
black thing surround my heart. I can't fully feel my heart for a long time. Can't
laugh. Can't smile. Can't look at people.

Only girl sometime. Especially girl sometime. Some day the girl is the reason to
keep going. Making me smile once more. Damned them. Damn their hot body. Jesus. Oh
lord. That one: so hot over there do you see her motion, her eyes while she in her
flow. Such angel, such nice thing that we can't get. Flowing and loving and eye
fucking. With that beers on the table everything is flowing, going, motion, an
energy of the whole place. Going in with it, dancing with it, talk about it,
everything just connect. It happen. It heaven. It hell. Idk.

He think "Should i rob this guy? why is he smoking and texting to infront of a mini
mart at 12:43AM
Is he insane like me ?
Is he one of my kind ?
Probably the thought of them while they looking at me.
i finish this sentence and my ciggarate and headed home.

After u leave, i become me again. my darkness, my guilt, my loneliness come rushing

in pushing away feeling from when u are here.
after u leave my flying imagination drop dead from the sky.
After u leave all the flower in my garden decayed and died.
After u leave the emptiness become so big feeding on my soul.
After u leave, dying would be so so sweet.

Couldn't get along with the normal people, I've tried.

They seem to care much more about things than I am. About spoken word. About ways
to speak certain word. They seem to care too much about how to express themselves.
To be liked. I couldn't understand why don't they just say what they feel and get
on with it.

For me, when I get so lonely around people, I would just say what I feel and worry
not about the consequences. Or sometime excited to know what will happen next after
I say certain words.

Human are strange, I don't get them sometimes.

Dizzy, fuzzy , feel like reality isn't real.

Heaviness on my eyes when I move them.
Sound of high-pitch eee flowing up and down hitting with other eee sound. Stomach
started to get hungry but lazy to go downstairs.

Nothing. Nothingness. Cold wind. Cold night. Good night.

@@They are all the same. Their joke is the same. The lifestyle is the same, the way
they moan, while I fuck them is the same. Dead and the same.
@@All joke has already been told, the dead joke is for the dead. I like dark and
raw jokes, I like them even if they’ve been said a million time. Dead hot women I
still would like to screw them.
@@reason is for pussy who didn’t know their darkness and try to justify it with
word. Be a giant whore of a pussy sometime. For the fun of it.
@@in the most darkness moment, I lost the ability to know if i was insane or not. I
still don’t. but I have my suspicion.
@@ I laughed because, they use insane reasons to proof I’m insane.
@@i talk to the cat, I treat it like a person. I respect it, and It knows. Sometime
I don’t treat a person the way I treat a cat, and they knows.
@@ the bullshit excuse that people used, cut deep within my soul. I don’t like it,
I know why they use them. I just wish they would change the word. Might still be
bullshit but it would be new
@@sometime my thought, my movement, my feeling isn’t my own. But the pains. The
pains was all mine.
@@ the worst part about being in constant pain is that we’re starting to like it.
@@most of my days, I smoked, most of my life, I wasted. Most of my relative, I
despised. Most of my underwear is missing.
@@Reason and emotion. Good and evil. Light and darkness. Try to understand it with
the word that your society teach you. And I used what was earned through my
insanity.
@@How could you know there’s a good if there is no evil? How could you know what is
UP when there is no down? How would you know what smelling is if there isn’t a
nose. The leaf falling in the forest with no one around would make no noise. To
have noise, there’re must be ears. To know how something taste like there’s must be
tongues. The observer is connected to the thing that is observed. There is
separation. They’re one. We’re all one. So let just forgive each other, and laugh
together before death come knocking on our door.
@@let have a debate of the centuries, old generation’s ideas, philosophy, outdated
traditional versus, new generation’s ideas, philosophy, and our newfound
traditional ( our way of talking, reacting, thinking).
@@ they don’t know how hard I’ve tried to keep my sanity. But the wall knows, the
awful sounded bird knows, the dog feel, and the cat understand but didn’t give a
damn.
@@i closed my eyes, and all is darkness. So if I die, the world’s end.
@@ a book and a video are almost the same, if you say my book is too much, then
stop watching porn, stop stopping to WATCH people injured in moto accident. Stop
watching movie with blood, stop thinking about fucking your cousin or your female
friend or anyone . Stop having violence thoughts. Stop imagining bullshit. And if
you can stop all of that, you have the right to judge. If you can’t. Maybe shut the
hell up and enjoy it!?

Cigarette’s smoke, women wearing jean short with half of their asses showing, a
cold beer after a soul-aching day, hot half naked girl in tiktok, nipslip in bingo
live… all of this is what keep me going . all of this is what keep me from losing
my mind or help me in losing it. I sold my soul doing these job I don’t like,
changing the way I talk and walk and think, these is what keep me going, these is
what is left of me. and this poetry.