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Schizophrenia – What is This?

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Tungsten Aromatics


June 6th, 1994 – Day 1066

Help me. Blue eyes staring down at me, the snow leaped on the chimney…

Pain, what is this? Is this something that’s fleeting or can it be measured? Is it a physical pain or emotional pain? – It won’t last, is something I say to myself…

Hallucination, a deception of my reality, a visual incarnation of my soul – a sight for sore eyes, a meaningless feeling of clarity, a deception of sight. For the dead.

Rain, I like rain – visual droplets of my essence – feeling that of silent pain – a withering willow of the tree, the slightest breeze of wind, destroying the burning of the sun’s rays on my tired and emotional eyes.

Yet the sun’s rays piece through my personal, like the men in black of leather.

Tactile hallucinations of touch, a deceiving my reality of perception, smelling the burning of black leather, that of which is the night. That which craves an outlet. The extreme end of the purity of hell.

Left voices state, then right voices state – I’m in the middle of this fight, a fight for my life in the blackness of this illness. Can it withdraw? Will it?

Only time will tell, goodbye they say… Yet, here I am – in the middle of the cause and effects of words said…

Born of the night, raised in hell like you taught me, is this a game? A sollow diving to catch it’s prey in the rays of moonlight…

Convent orders the ships to port. If only for tonight, lay me down on the street, I need a place safe to sleep...

Did you forget to take your meds?

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