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Repressed regrets, rewrite reset.
Phone dead. You’re right,
I can make it.
Longer and harder.
Animal instinct heightened
at night. At night, I always knew,
since outdoor school in sixth
grade when we played
Eagle Eye (hide in plain sight
but don’t be seen) I wasn’t
..just sleepless. Sleepless nights
from my parent’s divorce that
year wasn’t the reason. I
was thinking, “it can’t just
be troubles sleeping.”
“It must be the night”
Light’s sting, ugh, blinding,
shattering my retinas’ focus
in just irrelevant seconds.
Because you see, in the game,
the Eagle’s eye was a flashlight
meant to paralyze its targets’ stealth.
So I closed my eyes in the dark.
“I want the dark”
Light, always there, always
blinding, piercing, perceiving,
seeking, seeing. Being calculated.
Tonight, it’s Spring, my nocturnal instincts
are peaking. Since that first Spring
when shrooms physically changed
my mentality, each spring after
I quite physically feel the season’s colors
wrapping around my heart like the sun’s
grasp on my skin during the summer solstice
But I physically feel the season’s smells more,
overbearing my mind, brutalizing my senses,
like a psychotic lover’s ecstatic choking.
Did you know there are 125 trillion
synapses solely in the cerebral cortex?
That means 125,
zero zero zero, zero zero zero,
zero zero zero, zero zero zero.
That’s 125 multiplied by ten raised
to the twelfth power. If we were talking
about seconds instead of synapses,
125 multiplied by ten raised to the twelfth
power of seconds at a rate of 31,557,600
seconds per year, we would be talking about
In other words, if synapses were seconds, our brains
would have 4 million years. Tonight,
I am experiencing 4 million year’s worth of sensory overload.
Have you had an orgasm?
In those irrelevant seconds
that light shattered my focus,
it destroyed 4 million
year’s worth of synaptic experience
In the blink of an eye, every second is relevant.
And now I walk with them
closed, even at night.
By La Bête becomes Man on 03.25.2014
the pressure getting heavy, I don;t know how much more I can take. I’m an emotional being, I’m a peacock, I need to fly!
By Biscuit URL on 03.25.2014
Feel like a piece of cloth, to whom the dry wind at will, l, a person who may not be who is, a false identity, who pretend to be the other wants you to be. No more, no more, no more being repressed.
By C.M. Fernández on 03.25.2014
Bottled up frustration.Supressed reactions.Altered Responses. It’s going to all float to the surface one day. A Repressed human being will either lead a revolution or turn to crime eventually.
By inkyveins on 03.25.2014
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.