1.Nothing to write about.
The skulls of my skulls are deprived.
I am deprived and immobilized in mental spaces.
My possessions have perverted Me.
Mirrors distort My face, My next view of Myself is more frightening and dangerous than the previous one.
2.Detached from Reality, surrounds Me.
Or I absorbed it. Or I played with it.
I distorted it.
I have turned it away from Myself, I have taken it away from Myself.
3.My fear, the multiple dips in it, I will not be able to endure it.
Thousands of deformed degenerate bodies fill her.
It is present right in front of Me.
4.I do not wish to speak to it, I do not wish to feel it.
I can see the self-emptying wounds within the scum.
A wild beast, walking around Me.
He watches carefully.
Millions like him repeat his characteristic.
Repeat his pose, exactly and indistinguishable.
5.Biological danger to Me.
They are the collective, threatening.
Their subhumanity, is obvious.
6.But I desire to be cured of it, to take Myself out of it.
I desire to flee to another field, where nothing will disturb Me.
I am deprived of the possibility, now.
Perhaps it will appear in the future.
7.But it is worth doing, I desire.
I will not stop until I acquire what I so desire.
My passion is unquenchable, nothing will sink it.
8.My ability to protect.
This horror moves itself, the nightmare has an instinct.
Nature gives birth to ugliness, ugliness kills nature.
9.It is a sinking ship, taking everything breathing under the waters.
The waters captivate their bodies from within.
10.Nuclear pampering.
Intestinal infection.
The noose intertwines the noose.
The urgency of the impact.
The urgency of My desire.
Catastrophe for the planet.
Agitational outbursts in the atmosphere.
Propaganda subversions in crowds.
Self-incineration, self-incineration.
Political incorrectness.
11.Am I not at risk of becoming like this?
I have come to know Reality, I understand what I reread in my head.
Thoughts gliding through My attention.
I know what the Power is.
I know what will give Me it.
I am sure of understanding.
12.Unworthy of My understanding.
The natural machine is made of veins and meat. The machine is controlled by natural biology.
This natural machine is designed to justify its existence.
13.I have lost My own confidence. My certainty is lost, I should take it again.
Without the certainty of certainty, I am a vanishing and degenerate being.
14.Confidence Unshakable = Awareness.
The key to playing any reality.
Lack of certainty breeds doubt of knowing, doubt of the obviousness of reality is the path to eternal fear and suffering.
15.My flesh is revealed at one of the most degenerate points on the world map. Nothing has touched these lands, hatred and destruction have been sown in these lands.
The feces of this land – bleeding and dying, just after breathing.
Endless exhausts of decay, cancerous soil.
16.This is not My sacrifice, I have never been a part of it.
I do not understand the cries of these animals, I will never understand.
17.This is a blessing for Me.
My Self-glorification of Myself.
An immeasurable but hidden joy in Me.
A joy dedicated to My incomprehension of the inferior.
18.A tantalizing question hovers in My mind.
When and where will I obtain what I desire?
19.Great legends of the past, unsung deities in the flesh.
Even then, so understood by Me now – existed in a better biological environment.
I am in the midst of the late Middle Ages.
I am not in it.
It is worth it for Me to go out . . . .
I know My rightness.
I affirm My rightness.
I swallow tears of bitterness.
The overwhelming terror that doesn’t make a sound turns into a piercing roar.
20.I am old beyond my biological age.
My face is already wrinkled and dull.
I can feel it, my body shows it.
21.Every action has power, it is Conscious.
Don’t talk to an animal, it doesn’t understand the words of Man.
Biological Explanation.
Anthropological inability to understand.
Rejection of bodily understanding.
Don’t debate, don’t talk.
Remember this.
Don’t make mistakes.
22.I do not desire to stop, I do not desire to stop Myself.
I desire this, I thirst for My Evolution.
For this, I gave birth to Myself.
I was created for this.
I can be this.
I desire this.
Fear constrains Me, makes Me stop and doubt.
23.I am not constrained.
Clinical depression.
I am not willing to stigmatize Myself.
I am not defective. I am not suffering.
I suffer every day, every day is My question.
I get no answers, I can do nothing.
I can only write, broadcast My Mind to the bare bodies of the pages.
I splash My thoughts all over the pages.
24.Hopeless and defenseless, I am a fallen absurdity and am in the midst of a burning desert.
A naked body, devoid of hopes and experiences of beauty.
Dehydrated flesh, a suffering, stagnant body.
Totality stops Me swallowing.
Attempts to swallow Me insidious process.
I take away My supply.
Foci of callousness arise.
Furious outbursts, malignant speeches spewed by Me.
Words uttered by Me towards the living organism turn it to My malignancy.
Incommensurable dangers embody sections of My bodies.
Brought by burning winds, the red sands are imbedded in My desiccated lips.
Absences of movement, dramatic performances stopping in oxygen.
Hours and minutes count My eyes in the red sky.
Unable to move if it were My desire.
Hopeless and bereft of liveliness, killing the future.
I am a fallen accident in the midst of a burning desert.
25.I desire to be bought, to be paid for by a rich daddy who will give Me everything I can desire.
26.If I let Myself into it, if I imagine it, I become weak and vulnerable.
It begins to overwhelm Me if I approach it.
Not to imagine, because it doesn’t matter.
No nationality, no gender, no age.
I am faceless, possessing all faces, conceiving them in My Intelligence.
The only being, the anti-biological miracle.
27.I do not belong to this.
28.I belong to Myself.
29.Barely perceptible experiences of already dead sensations of the past.
They torment Me, they pity Me.
I am tempted by the fact that I will never know Me again.
I long for Myself or for something else that I will never receive.
I hear whispers barely perceptible to My ears.
They sound the screams of rage, I hear.
They scream that all the things I remember, all the things I experience, are in the past world. A dead world.
All the faces that made up for it – split up into themselves (slowly flowing down the walls). Gone forever, dead and faded.
They are gone, as if they did not exist.
210.As if I had not lived before, not breathed.
Everything is dim and filled with thick mists.
There is no clarity left in Me.
31.Memories of the past suddenly lose their outlines.
Lack of boundaries of clarity.
Blurred and torn edges.
There are no whole pictures, And no longer remember My feelings.
32.I cannot and have not learned.
Inability to imitate, inability to hint.
33.The body is stale and stiff to the touch. Bony joints stiffen.
Everything pours into motionless mannequins before your eyes.
And it will no longer be as it was before.
34.The flesh is unresponsive to provocation, the triggers do not deliver the former stimulation.
Rigidity, callousness, insensitivity, loss of feeling.
Total stagnation, absolute inaction.
Death of the Great Goddess.
35.(or) New birth, the germ of a being in a new world, painting apocalyptic pictures of the self, of the self.
Deprivation of sensitivity, atrophied skill of feeling. Of vitality, of existence.
Destructive pictures of the new world.
Happened (e)that made it exist after its death.
The laws of genres have been abolished and destroyed.
The laws of genres are no longer valid.
The death of error.
36.I sense a change in the atmosphere.
Old worlds are crushed, forgotten and distorted.
Brutally layered layers of the old, blurred dead pictures of the past.
You cannot erase what is behind you. Turning back, you become part of it.
You are consumed, you cannot escape. Don’t dare look back, look forward.
You are part of the broken past of time, there is no place for you in the middle of the field on which I am playing.
37.There is no oxygen here, I cannot breathe and am crushed by this plane.
My face revels in the scent of wet asphalt, watered by the endless bloodletting of My doubles.
Watching the debris, the burning air caresses My lungs.
The sudden emergence of a body in the pit of the black worm.
Dens digging themselves.
Fiction writer reproduces levitating acts. Soaring through the air, spraying cancer. The procedure of healing the greatest villain (Apocalyptides).
Ordinary tongues are woven with each other and nothing touches their understanding.
Reunited by others, full of inhuman intentions.
Heavy are the breaths around your ears.
38.Listen to the voices of My matter.
310.For the sense of life.
Past and indirect associations of you with Me.
You have known Me. Before the appearances of you.
You heard Me. In wombs.
You know of what you think and think of the knowledge of your certainty in your understanding of your imaginings, you know, it seems to you what you have heard and seen.
Knew your imaginings as well. Your absurdities. You are aware of what also seemed to you what you had read me before.
And you were aware of the fact that it was familiar to you. You seem to know what I am talking about.
I was in you before you appeared. I have stopped My breaths in you and breathed them in again with renewed vigor.
I know you will not feel My poetry again. I know you will not recognize Me again.
41.I know I have crossed all the invisible lines.
42.Was it all in vain?
A self-loving being embraces the narcotic ecstasy.
Protects its body from the cruelty of the world.
43.Destroying nightmares is bound not to become the same nightmare.
The one who possesses desire is bound not to become one who does not possess Reason.
I have not looked into this abyss for so long.
My awareness, that is enough.
I will save Myself from this.
Copyright Dinoya ©
Dinoya/Дьиноя 