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My flesh is twisted
2025年9月16日火曜日Tags [ - Esoteric - ]
I don’t know what I am.
I don’t know what I feel.
I thought I did. I genuinely thought so.
My flesh is twisted.
I don’t eat real food.
I don’t see real things.
I don’t feel real touch.
I can only smell nicotine.
All I hear is music. Is music a real thing?
Am I real anymore? Am I alive anymore?
I want to throw up.
Stops writing for a second
>@709 Receiving transphobic hate on fedi
What is reality? The air is stale.
Nothing is moving, nothing is flowing.
I’m not alive, I ceased to be alive months ago.
This is just delusion, this is just fiction.
I am but a ghost made of meat.
My flesh is twisted.
I want to say my feet is now off the ground.
But it always was.
I’m beyond gone.
I’m an empty shell.
This is narrative, my whole life is narrative.
A narrative made out of vague memories.
I can’t get enough air.
My flesh is twisted.
I’m just part of the story.
My body turned into words.
There is a bright light.
Is there hope for me?
The present shapes the narrative.
The events shape the mood.
Time stops when I see you.
Music stops when I hear you.
What is happening to me anymore?
My flesh is twisted.
This is just a bunch of disconnected thoughts.
There is no art, shape or form.
This is not the end.
If I posted this as is, it’d be incomplete.
No. There is more to unpack.
I only want to escape this maze.
It’s not too late.
Some things can be changed.
The present shapes the narrative.
The events shape the mood.
There is still time.
I can end this hell.
The price is giving up delusion.
Giving in to reality is the price.
I see a future.
My flesh is no longer twisted.
My heart is aching for adventure.
My lungs are yearning to cry.
My hands can feel my face.
My feet can feel the bed.
I came back to reality for a brief moment.
My body was warm. My eyes so tired.
I could finally see things as they were.
My flesh, no longer twisted.