thejournal123

[thejournal123]

Unravel

The public, so close and tied,

Yet amongst humans, humanity died;

Sanity and logic taking backseats,

Stupidity and dogma being marvelous feats.

Talent and creativity, with no relevance,

Hijacked minds, slain and dense;

History muddied and future uncertain,

Trapped in a world of lies and pain.

The ruling folks, wealthy and high,

Best for the commoners not to deny;

For blind we are to hurt and lies,

Us being Jack's complete lack of surprise.

[thejournal123]

Win through struggle because there are no wins without effort.

[thejournal123]

I Miss You

Everyday as I walk in here,

Mostly identical, everything everywhere,

Save for the comfort that I felt,

When my wandering eyes found you.

Words can't paint my heart's hue,

The warmth it felt, when it found you;

Like the radiant suns and the vivid skies,

Anytime when I'd see you smile.

Now, I slouch into captivity,

This prison we call "school";

Emptiness, wherever I gaze,

Drowning in my teary pool.

Hope is my only friend now,

Otherwise alone in this desolate dream;

With life being a barren odyssey,

Beyond my heart's sad stream.

For I know we will meet again,

Against all chances and odds,

I'll go around the world if I must,

Even fighting the Gods..

..just for you.

[thejournal123]

Out of all people, I fell in love with you,

isn't that divine, sweetheart?💫

[thejournal123]

《■》Have you ever felt the present to be so hellish and empty, that you start reminiscing the past, as if it was the only time you've been happy, only heaven you used to live in.

It would be such a pity to think, how we search through the scatterred pieces of our childhood or the blurred out teenage, to live the time once again, when we used to be truly happy, when there were large room for dreams?《■》

Picture: pinterest

[thejournal123]

The Cigarette Theory

This "theory" is essentially a philosophical model to understand the "roller-coaster life", or atleast how it is thought of by those who pursue it.

Birth/Lighting a cigarette:

The lighting of a cigarette is essentially coming to this world and getting a hold on out bodies and mind, i.e., being born.

The Smoking:

From the time of us being born, we want our lives to be as memorable and thrilling as possible, taking as many puffs as we can.

(After all if they don't, the fire extinguishes beforehand and they died before they should've)

Death/The cig light dying:

Then, comes the inevitable, the demise of the body, the cig light is gone, and it's crushing, our funeral.

But of course, the soul, us, can look forward to getting a new vessel, lighting up a new cig, with the same if not greater enthusiasm.

(Different from what i usually do, but still something I thought of)

[thejournal123]

Being loved by an Artist is like being forever engraved in an old notebook page, or being lost in an old dusty canvas, ever-living in their solitude.

(Idk what I'm doing anymore)

[thejournal123]

Drowned

Bored again and losing time,

Slipping down, breaking minds;

Drowning in this flowing sand,

Sliding down life's killing cant.

To not know what love is,

In a world full of hate;

Boiling rage and rotting dread,

Trickling down to our fate.

Dancing in this world,

Destined for doom;

Growing grey,

Like a flower in bloom.

In this voyage full of pain,

Will we know to love again?

(Boredom gives way to..)

[thejournal123]

Things.

Only when depression hits us,

Do we learn to value joy;

Only when we have nothing,

Are we free to do anything.

For we can only take so many punches,

And still call ourselves "human".

That is, if we were ever one to begin with.

[thejournal123]

Them: Wow! Your poems are so sweet, I wish I could write poems about someone special!

Me: Trust me,

I'd much rather have her company,

Than write poems about her absence..

(I miss her :"))

[thejournal123]

Death

Intolerable, it becomes, after a while,

This facade of decency that we wear;

Painstakingly obvious of its being,

Of it, even we're aware.

Putting it on to live,

In a dead world, a cesspool,

With masks, hiding insecurities,

While awaiting something beautiful.

A world with no love, no warmth,

A realm where hope is a lost dream.

A dystopia where existence is mundane,

Pitiful, agonized yet we don't scream.

One where we've accepted defeat,

And the light has been snuffed out;

One that teaches us to treat,

Life as one treats death.

Ig: x_subh_art_x

[thejournal123]

"At times, the past is more glorious than the present.."

-not me :)

(It was said by a friend and I thought it sounded cool)

[thejournal123]

☆~Does the universe create a Supernova, when somewhere lightyears away in a planet, its child fall apart and the sadness inside her, break and collide with each other? When the memories burst her heart inside and out, do the stars collide with each other there too,creating a black hole, resembling the void inside her? Or has it been eternally resilent? For I've felt the stardusts in my lungs everytime I cry.☆~

[thejournal123]

Addiction

We're all but addicts here,

Nodding by life's fire,

With not much to care for,

While succumbing to our desires.

Addiction is but essential,

Perhaps liberating us, freeing,

So intricate in fact,

That we don't realize it's being.

Through the smoky halls of existence,

Living this turbulent odyssey,

Beyond this visage of lies and smiles,

It truly allows us to see.

To see things never seen,

To know things that haven't hither to,

Opening our sleeping selves,

To things absolute and true.

Or perhaps 'tis but an illusion

For our broken minds to see,

To try and ease the pain

Of knowing what's to be.

For we're all but addicts here,

Burning on life's fire,

With nothing to care for,

Utterly succumbing to our desires.

Ig: ×_subh_art_x

[thejournal123]

Bliss

"Depression" would be too much,

A great hole to feel or fit;

Although I do feel it sometimes,

But, always dismissing it.

Just too much instability,

Wishing there isn't more;

For one should be cautious,

Of what they're wishing for.

A life is just a poem really,

Every line a new day;

With the pen going out of control,

Leading the individual astray.

However, no one ever waits for them,

No smiles or second chances;

Just continuing on without them,

Busy in life's dances.

Left alone, and sad,

Like flies, thus they drop;

Just like a poem never truly ends,

The Pen just suddenly stops.

[thejournal123]

Legit every comic book writer these days..

Me writing villains: 100 pages of backstory, badass name, dope aesthetic, mysterious motives, every quote is a fckn mic drop

Me writing heroes: nice guy, tries hard

[thejournal123]

Istg, the most random sparks of inspiration are the ones who shine the brightest.

(Please come to me, inspiration)