reciprocate-nothingness-blog

[reciprocate-nothingness-blog]

Dear Hanna

I know you are looming in some ring of hell, waiting for me, and let me tell of my dear, my love, my soulmate, I am coming.

This website was our connection, our spirit animal, where our emotionless heap of nonexistence could become illuminated.

You were such a bright young adult, I just wish that if I could reverse time I could save you, that I could tell you that by embracing the darkness and succumbing to it were two completely different spectrum's of mentality.

Writing was both our salvation and our catalyst for destruction, in which we both were intoxicated by our own capability to evoke emotion through letters.

A click of the mouse, a press on the space bar, a tap on the key, our greatest fears and or worst thoughts came to life, because for us the only reality we knew, we embraced, we indulged, we trusted, were our own demons.

Blessed with a curse, chosen for a glorious purpose, destined for our own demise, we both lived our lives, yet somehow, blinded by the ever encompassing darkness that tainted our outlook on life brought both of us together.

When I meet you in the halls of hell, set ablaze by the ever consuming immolation of hatred and despair, we shall meet again in glorious fashion, draping each other in inextinguishable flames of passion.

You waited for me in life, I shall seek you in death, for time is irrelevant in the ways of love, in the ways of death. For we shall unite our minds, our souls and suffer in eternal exsanguination both physically and spiritually. Our souls shall be siphoned, our minds lobotomized, our flesh asunder, for only then can we truly exist as one, divided equally you are my demon, and I your angel. We will merge on the fields of eternal calamity, for only then will ours destiny's be revealed.

Everyday I am afflicted like a leper with this all consuming exhaustion of existence. I am starting to question whether the only difference between life and death is the pain you lack during your time on earth. Mine has been almost completely mental, with physical pain waning in comparison.

The only thing hell could offer me is the pain directly contrasting to the pain I feel now, which would be physical, possibly the eternal sensation of burning flesh, the mere stench of it, or bones being shattered a thousand times over indefinitely.

I feel like hell would be the realization that my entire life had a purpose, but it was unobtainable due to a series of events that led me to disbelief in myself, in my god, in my existence as a meaningful entity on this earth.

I live with only a few regrets in my life, and one of them, which haunts me e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y. is never having the courage/confidence/drive to deliver you the salvation you yearned for so desperately.

I was absolutely terrified to lose you before I even met you, because I knew that me and you, you and I, were one in the same, we were both entranced by death, darkness and all things unholy, in which we both indulged beyond anything a mere mortal could withstand. The only difference is I persevered where you succumbed.

And I do not mean that in a comparative sense, but in one in which I could have granted you the strength, the stamina to overcome your situation of existence.

I will end this extremely long tangent to a deceased girl that I knew in a past lifetime by saying this.

No one. No one will understand my sacred pledge to you, to never love again until I am with you. One day I will succumb to the darkness and fully embrace it like you did with unyielding courage. One day we will be reunited my love, my counterpart, my spirit, my reincarnation, my death, my fear, my indifference, my contemplation. my seductive whisper of death, my bearer of eternal sleep, my abyssal sea at the cliffs edge, we shall meet again, only in death, and only with your consent.

For when you want me to reunite with you, whisper to me when I am sinking beneath the undertow of my own depression, when I am fully submerged, gasping for air, fighting for a reason to survive, simply caress my unyielding desire to rejoin you and beckon me to scour the abyss for eternity. For the destiny is yours to behold, yours to control, yours to make whole, yours to decide for both of us, you had the courage I will never have, to embrace the darkness, to challenge it, and to ultimately become the darkness. You are mine and I am yours until the end of time, until the last star fades from the sky and the inevitable destiny is complete.

[reciprocate-nothingness-blog]

sarcophagus

My mind, body & soul have become entombed,

A husk of numbness has reinforced my consciousness,

For all defense from here on out is against myself,

This reality that has been sewn so intricately,

Will be undone by the chaotic reverberations of life,

Each passing day becomes a testament to nostalgia,

Begging for reprieve from my once incumbent youthfulness.

[incomplete-change of mindset...]

[reciprocate-nothingness-blog]

Effervescence

This looming darkness consuming the entirety of my being, down to the roots of my soul and the marrow in my bones. This darkness eclipses the sun, the moon and all likeness or happiness or reprieve. No matter the activity or the action, there is always a counter-intuitive negligence to what I need to to do seemingly exist. Each day is a prophetic self-indulgent, self-fulfilling prophecy of despair in which I cannot wake from nor embrace. Tethered to this reality in which I am ensnared all I can do is scream out in agony for salvation, yet this snare which is proven to be inescapable is what I am. I am two beings, a demon and an angel, a beast and a man destined to live as a whole. This duality of reality is contradictory to everyday life, this pitiful never ending requiem that choruses my droll existence is one of reverberating anguish and resistance to acknowledgement.

What am I to do with myself?

What am I to do with this horde of demons?

What am i to do with this onslaught of piercing desperation?

What am I to do with this mesmeric riptide of depression?

What am I to do with this indifference I once felt for minuscule passion?

This one sliver of hope that I have been granted is ever fleeting, ever encumbering, yet this is the best it will get for me. I cannot go back to that place, that sinister temptation of false convalescence.

From here on out there is only deterioration of my mind, chilled icicles of indifference, corruption of my soul, absence of compassion, semblance to the loathsome truthfulness, for I am what I have become...

A lone wolf, a despotic reincarnation of my own hatred for mankind.