Sculpt of self

The newest theories in training and food seems to be working.

It's me again

Hi! 

It's me...

Again.

I need this void again

This hall of space

Filled by the echoing piano

And free thoughts.

Everytime I return here I have been charged by

A mix of clarity and negative emotions

That needs discharge

This time around it's the emptiness in seeing

Little and sometimes no purpose in my daily actions

I've lived my life after my own code of honor

Actions that directly leads to another mans/(or womans)

sadness or anger is prohibited

Its part of a cleansing-method I came up with

As a 13 year old. Absorbing negativity to free

Everyone else from it.

It's taking it's toll though

And it's starting to feel very lonely

I've realised lately that my natural way of

Blending to the cause most probably have made

People wonder who I am or just found me strange 

For not showing what I stand for.

This ofcourse leads to the natural rejection

Of things unknown

Discontinuation

This blog has been discontinued

It was an experiment to get rid of thoughts by simply writing 

things down, Every word in this blog is one negative thought less in my head

Thank you for watching and reading from it, the amount of views helped me

to recover from the inner abyss of an overthinking mind.

I am now free

Goodbye

I've got something to say.

"trying to be special" fuck you,
You're the one to judge without fact

Should I've been the selfish,
your face would be gone,
I'm walking the road of truth,
So wake the fuck up son.

There's a fuckload more to life than defending your image
The image gets old, it'll rot, diminish.

Energies on the other hand, never dies.
And I've been giving all life, no lies.

Yet you see me as stupid and kind,
Lost in your ways made you blind.

And so you wake up one day, burdened with lies,
no one believes you, believes your cries.

And you come to me for comfort,
to be helped from the you made.

WELL WAKE UP SON, how you work you will get paid.

It's that fucking simple.

Hyeenas

They'll all try to battle you, without a real cause
They'll all try to rattle you, try getting applause.

They are slaves of the crowd,
They are lost in the shrowd,

They're feathers are bleak
They lose as we speak

They fade away,
No left to say.

All but a silent goodbye.

You dont get this do you?
It's not a battle of winning or losing,

it's of choosing and using,
thoughts and tools not people you fucking moron

Two on two, battle to the death, do what you do, you gotta get last breath.
Well wake the fuck up son, WHO said death was losing? WHO said this is the thought you must be choosing
No one! It's all in your head, your spirit's a monster, it cannot be dead.
Reality is a word, a word saying "what we know for sure".
The MOON was flat a looooong time before getting round,
Death might be a concert, with incredible fucking sound.


The thing is... You are battling potential friends and you're giving it all
For a theory you lend, no one's calling the shots. And yet the time you spend.
Trying to win. Försvinn.

Blabla

No time to be weak, as there are two in my heart.

I'll protect you the other part and I dont care if mine dies
Life isnt fair anyway, so why demand with reason.

It's only pain, hurt and treason, and some happiness to obtain.

So im living life with purpose, why bother die invain.

If u read this go to bed, it's fucking late.

You'll probably dont read it anyway, botfuck.

Constantly attacked, right, left then smacked
Steady confusion of the healthy illusion.

Your not alone... you hang out with pity, you're dead.

If its based on energy im drained, if life's a weather I rain.
And if cold is a noise, i have no choice, but to sing and sing insane.

For the roof is on fire, your heart's a wire and the engine pf hope has stopped.

I'm just fucking gone.

Haunted and damned, dangerously in pain
When a girl sings to the devil, she's screaming my name.

How did you expect, did you even reflect?
On the actions you made turned light into shade as the burning of a life is at stake.

Never caring, Never minded, all words of else was fake.

So I've thought of life's book as empty, filling with whatever I want
Well the pages are burned in plenty, It's a pile of ashes I CANT.

Ruins of a thousand words

I just wrote down all the misery in my head, and then I deleted it all, It wasn't good enough. Not miserable enough to be entertaining,

So it's gone, and when posted, it cannot be undone.

so it's still in my head... in my bed, in my veins
twisting turning alone I'm in pains

Salvation is a creature dying in front of me, roadkilled by my controlling thoughts.

Sanct

The pain ive seen by a millionth thousand, the mask I wear of eternal descent, the burden i bare of days to come, the sorrow no one will know. For a day in an hour, my life's devoured, there's no longer meaning at all.