The only problem I have is that I feel too much.
I should numb myself, like you.
I like you.
The etchings in my soul are carved deep,
Every interaction a new scar.
Don't do this, don't say that;
They'll hate you.
So, we decided not to do anything,
for fear of upsetting the almighty,
but that just made it worse.
Why didn't you this? Why didn't you that;
I hate you.
Your only problem is you do too little.
Do you think we call lay around, like you!?
I hate you!
Out with friends at a comfy bar,
Every interaction, love in heaps.
Sure, do this! Yeah, do that!
I love you!
So we went and we did everything,
No fear of the almighty,
And it just got
Would you do an experiment with me?
Place yourself in this scenario-
Here you are, 18 years of age.
Everybody else is turning the page,
Halfway through, while you're staring at the cover.
You've got suicidal depression, psychopathic tendencies-
Of course, none of this was ever diagnosed or seen;
You've got a paranoia disorder that stops you.
You've been given all the tools to succeed, y'know.
But you failed at every shot-
The world was outside and bright and beautiful,
you spent it trapped in a box.
Every opportunity that was given to you, you failed.
The world is moving along without you.
And like a pane of glass, yes, you can see through,
B
The River, and The Riverbank by BinaryWo0lf, literature
Literature
The River, and The Riverbank
The River, and The Riverbank.
They say to each other - we are seperate.
But really, they are the same.
The River, and The Riverbank.
They argue with each other. River say;
"Listen here, Riverbank,
you follow the direction of river!"
And riverbank argues back, and says-
"No, River!
You follow the direction of riverbank!"
You zoom out from it,
and look at the two at the same time,
and they go the same way.
The River, and The Riverbank.
They talk to each other in the night. River say;
"What were we arguing about?"
Riverbank reply-
"I don't know!"
You zoom out from it,
You already know.
The River, and The Riverbank.
And the field!
And the sky,
Like an untethered boat,
I'm just drifting through life.
There was a poem I read as a kid
That I fell in love with. It said-
"A poor life this, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare."
I've stood and stared at this field for a while now.
A smooth river runs through,
With an array of birds travelling overhead.
Fly, little birds.
Fly higher than I ever could.
I look back at last night
And I shake my head.
They know what they did.
Intoxication,
Through various means.
And yet, deep down
there was this sense of
Inward stability.
Even though my outer self was getting shaken
Like clothes in a dryer,
Somewhere within the fabric,
I was at peace.
It's almost as if death couldn't touch me,
Even if I wanted it to.
Isn't the world in black and white?
Isn't the world in 8 by 8?
Aren't we all part of some
Sick, inhumane game of chess,
Being played off against one another?
Are we pawns?
No.
Then why are we being played,
like mere peices,
cogs in a machine,
easily replaceable,
to acheive an end goal?
It's because of divide and conquer.
An army of 100 is a lot easier to defeat
When it is only an army of 10.
We are being split, you see.
Black and white,
male and female,
old and young,
all subcategories, to keep us
split.
Unity seems to be a word humanity forgot;
the idea, the essence of standing together,
under the principle that we're all
human
is alien to