(((Swimmers)))

Microscopic Misery On The Horizon

I keep opening and closing the notes app then swearing about it being closed when I am ready to type. I open it again and the words are gone, they don't flow. I decided not to close again. now its me verses the f*cking white page screen even my wallpaper cant save me. I need help.

I'm going crazy - quietly sinking, mind unravelling, anger simmering - you know the traditional route to madness. I remember when insanity was a fascinating ideology. I remember hoping with my fingers and toes crossed that one day, I would attain such enlightenment as going crazy, mental, insane. To touch the edge of sanity and cross over the line into paradise. It would be like dying and being alive the whole time; another realm sounds like SHINY to people like me at sixteen, another place to watch the endless mutations of the growing population.

Thoughts come back I catch a note or two on the old laptop with sticky keys full of smoke and ash and balancing my roll-up between two plump lips, I type a bit of this whilst vigorously biting my bottom lip. It doesn't dawn on me that I haven't taken a breath yet. It's beyond me why the TV keeps repeating sometimes sinisterly, the same sound of silence that bites harder at life than the blood caked hole on my face. I hold my thoughts and release a breath. Wishing, I was dead.

Like at the old drive-in movies. Some people see the world from the backseats, looking up over the shoulder of their lover who is sucking on their face or neck as they look straight ahead and see nothing too clever, their dick is thinking 'head' subconscious thrusts up as they push the lover's face down and with the moment approaching their eyes close and for a few moments of sexual bliss they think they've found the world's best kept secret. F*ck it. F*ck This. F*CK ME.

F*CK ME so that I can LIVE. that used to be me too. It's how I know and how I can tell you about it. I'm pretty certain there are many other angles from which people view the world at the drive through. I am probably the one hiding underneath the billboard at the back. like just now the "under the boardwalk track" starts playing in my head - a brief exit or cigarette break from the anger now. "Down by the seeeeeaaa". The f*cking sea. Mostly vacant and vast and like me sometimes treacherous.

I got my f*cking wish. that crossed fingers manifestation granted me the to delve into the other side. It wasn't that I wanted to be locked inside my fucking consciousness i wanted to get out of it to live beyond the brain to swim in the undercurrents of subconsciousness and climb the f*ck out again. It wasn't meant to be this way. when all life and mental illness - crazy - - insanity - schizo-f*cking-phrenia has shown me. Is the running river of fear and deadly anxiety and the loneliness of knowing that the anxiety if f*cking dead right.

Reality shines like a beacon onto the dark sea in which I'm treading water, but what's the point of it being so far away? All it does is illuminate everything evil, every piece of fuck shit debris of b*llsh*t and vast sea of worry and death and anxiety and betrayal and abandonment and abuse and pointlessness. Laid bare glittering silver in the dark shimmering on the surface of the ocean in front of me. It gives me a taste of what it is. I'm not missing being out here just swimming.

If it's this disgusting now. Here in the water. I want to drown it out. I want to stick my entirely dead corpse of a head all the way fucking under. I'd rather start looking into the abyss from within it, be hopeful in the scoping out of the watery realm of psychosis and whatever else is thrown my way. F*ck looking at it in full light. F*ck moonlight too for it makes everyone delusional like the lunatic in the grass is beautiful.

Microscopic Misery On The Horizon. I'd rather be in the thick of sh*t than all nice and cosy smelling of fucking roses looking on from the heavens of reality and not realising that the dark is all around you and you're missing the whole f*cking point. Get in the water. Become part of the darkness. Look towards the light and know that it can't get you out.

Being grateful for the world around us is never quite as bad as the darkness in our hearts. We are the swimmers' babies. We are the f*cking winners. There are no losers by the way because the people in the light have already lost. They are nothing with nothing to lose. but winners have something appealing. they're struggling to feed their wins. It's everlasting. Losing is finite.

Winning just keeps on giving. To survive the miserable medusa tide of life. It stays still and doesn't look the angels in the eye. Don't move. Don't listen to the moon. Don't choke the girl on your c*ck. She will be spared. Her soul wasn't looking up. Don't close your eyes. Don't sleep wide awake. Do you understand how many grains of sand it takes insanity to shift once you've crawled across that beach. Look only for and to and never beyond the mirage. It is true. It is me.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND. JUMP BEFORE YOU ARE PUSHED. LOVE THE UNLOVED. F*CK.

Find my POETRY & PHOTOS on INSTAGRAM: chaseydelaney7

SIGN UP FOR MY FREE EMAILS here NEWSLETTERS here