WolfAsylum

In the darkness of the unknown the mind searches for answers, yet the mind answers back and self sabotages its own efforts to bring meaning to the same confusion it conjures... that's schizophrenia, and the vicious cycle of mental illness. 78 days sober, the mood swings and psychotic episodes have lessened but are still in existence... FML If exercise and healthy living could solve mental illness, riddle me then why are there so many criminally minded folk on a steady diet and jacked at the gym? Living this way, is unfair. What's more terrifying is the boundless apathy of people... Hardly anyone gives a fuck, true story. And whilst you could say people are just trying to hold their shit together instead... seems more like misdirection of priorities to me. War, division and a listless aimlessness of course is in our natures. We try to resolve it, and instead draw the lines between us even finer... this the best we can do. Disappointing. All our ideals, hopes and dreams hinder

I'd much rather live my own life than have someone live vicariously through me and dictate my every action. Men for some reason lust for power over other men, it's limiting and disappointing. Cooperation and goodwill goes much further plus it feels better, some people don't see this, probably most. The human race as such lives in conflict with itself on the daily... no-one wants to admit they're wrong or flawed, whereas we all are. Pride egotism and arrogance pollute the minds of many, generated by fear and uncertainty in most cases. In an ever changing volatile world... we crave permanence, truth is nothing is certain. Our fear of the unknown holds us back, shooting our little guns at each other and or infighting instead anything to cover up the naked truth of our true identity, The shame of being real. So most go farther afield into fantasy, as such we cling to rituals and traditions or bias and prejudice because the facts don't justify our way of life so easily. We

I've gone through some intense shit over the years, I've been marginalized and ostracized by small cult like communities where everyone's brainwashed by some bizarre self referential and insular narrative... there is now in existence an abundance of exclusive clubs that require you to relinquish your freedom of expression and individuality to simply fit in and blindly follow their pre-established narrative or dialogue, this is not good enough. Be careful what you give your control away to. I've spoken to atheists, flat earthers, religious zealots and self appointed guru's / cult leaders you name it... And after such exposure to the heated debate that took place within the ranks of the vocal minority, I finally came to a conclusion... I need facts, I enjoy the scientific method... because it brings results... baseless beliefs do not. It's ok to have beliefs, they are however not proven FACT. There's a working model for science, it's called technology... the working model for

When push comes to shove, and you disguise abuse as advice, under the premise of being nice, in this war of attrition of opinion, people fall apart. Everyone's trying to save each other from themselves... When they themselves, instigate so much pain, In order to curtail the damage they already do to each other... So much evil done in the name of good, in this flimsy morally subjective empire with it's mirrored halls, Always it's edges cut into our being, everyday a trial just to remain, I wish there was another way... Yet there's no-one controlling this headless monster of a species hellbent on it's own self destruction. I suppose all we can do, is salvage what we can from this the strangest of places, And getting stranger by the minute... The bizarre nature of these people... spinning round in circles, cliques... groups... everyone's demented all striving to justify to each other whatever they consider their skewed version of "normality" to be. The stoned ape, brain fried

Shining like the scissors of Lazarus glistening in the twist and fury of storm within the dreamy eye of fiery hurricane broken wristed and crippled, nibbled and rat infested we slide through the guts of parasitic velocity with terminal kisses and crescendos glistening a deafening blown-out high-end knifes edge of papercuts and plastic. Dangling elastic dipped down behind a blast shield of iron, whirling within the crossfire of gun-slice and ionic pulse, whirling laser-whip and dice, cutting nice and keen, the machine of furnace peak and toil. Turbines churning, stomachs broil, beating out rhythm igniting in the shimmering skies that turn volcanic and ashen overhead, always biding my time, bells that chime and call my name, but I am not always the one to blame. And as I rest here upon gilded stead, tipped over and splashing the smoky huts, with the scent of burning broken bread, belabored and bled of cuts and murmurs, beyond the murderous dry steamy sands of the battered and force-fed