I sit here, drowning in self hate and the blank hell of my primitive consciousness, it seems too late. I can see only the filth of my life. Reality is what I make it. Can I ever honestly accept how I rationalize my life?

Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
I sit here, drowning in self hate and the blank hell of my primitive consciousness, it seems too late. I can see only the filth of my life. Reality is what I make it. Can I ever honestly accept how I rationalize my life?

Ireland. The myth of beauty and tales so beyond the hidden ways of life.

I hear mother warn me I would be an old maid. Well, perhaps my need of solitude is all I look for in this life.

She began to discover life wasn't too short: laughter and love were the answer.

Fill up my life especially when time's a goon.

What a life! There are still kind people in this world - together, we deserve to have it all.

Open your eyes. Let life in and welcome experience.

Living is so uncertain and hard but I feel there is so much more purpose instead of a future so black. I want to never be afraid.

Every breath we draw, every instant of life must be called into existence from love.

Nobody thinks about human life, that we kill people with secrets. There is no horror, that is the appalling thing. The emotional reaction over it will be infinitely bored, casual, and complacent.
