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Kumamoto, Japan

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RoseBloom 玫瑰盛放

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✧ Philosopher King ✧ tired tsun-tsun ✧ 💀🔪🖤🦇🕷️🥀

"In all due time I’ll repair my mind; where souls lay soaked in tears I will rescue mine" [soundcloud.com]

Background

DOB: x/xx/1998
Age: 25
Interests: None
Favorite Anime: Me.
Favorite Genre of Music: Diverse

The birds are silent in the woods. Just wait: soon enough you will be quiet too.

Victims. Victims of a transitional period of morality. That is what we both certainly are.

Just as pure oxygen is harmful to the body, the naked truth has the power to destroy men’s minds. Oxygen only becomes air when combined with five times as much nitrogen. Truth is the same. Only by diluting it with lies and taking it in small doses can humans maintain a healthy soul.

A short life can be well-lived. A life lived efficiently, lived to perfection, is necessarily one unburdened by loneliness.

I have always shook with fright before human beings. Unable as I was to feel the least particle of confidence in my ability to speak and act like a human being, I kept my solitary agonies locked in my breast. I kept my melancholy and my agitation hidden, careful lest any trace should be left exposed. I feigned an innocent optimism; I gradually perfected myself in the role of the farcical eccentric.

Whenever I was asked what I wanted my first impulse was to answer "Nothing." The thought went through my mind that it didn't make any difference, that nothing was going to make me happy.

Society. I felt as though even I were beginning at last to acquire some vague notion of what it meant. It is a struggle between one individual to another, a then-and-there struggle, in which the immediate triumph is everything.

Unhappiness. There are all kinds of unhappy people in the world. I suppose it would be no exaggeration to say that the world is composed entirely of unhappy people. But those people can fight their unhappiness with society fairly and squarely, and society for its part easily understands and sympathizes with such struggles. My unhappiness stemmed entirely from my own vices, and I had no way of fighting anybody.

I said I had no reason to fight, but the truth is, I know that a beast lives within me. It's a rampaging beast that would bite off everything in sight to survive. When the battle begins, no matter what, its hand reaches out towards the path of survival. Even if it means misery for others. No matter what kind of world awaits.

I thought, “I want to die. I want to die more than ever before. There’s no chance now of a recovery. No matter what sort of thing I do, no matter what I do, it’s sure to be a failure, just a final coating applied to my shame. That dream of going on bicycles to see a waterfall framed in summer leaves—it was not for the likes of me. All that can happen now is that one foul, humiliating sin will be piled on another, and my sufferings will become only the more acute. I want to die. I must die. Living itself is the source of my sin.

He could only consider me as the living corpse of a would-be suicide, a person dead to shame, an idiot ghost.

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I met a man in town, he said, "You only frown"
In breaks of wearing a smile
And all this walking around
Has had him up to his brow
In thought forms all so vile
He knows he stands alone in his way
And worst of all, he thinks it of fate
He wears the friendliest face on top a frame made of hate
In hopes of sunnier days, he thinks of clouds hung grey
And blames faith
He cries and says:
"I am the mane stripped lion
I am the wingless fly
And I've been birthed to die, but I remain alive
And it's a mystery why
The mountains bounce my cries
Through the Nicholson skies
Where hopefully Heaven hears
And I am granted bliss in trade for all my plights".