Six AM
Six AM drugs stories
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aremdaich
aremdaich Whole essence of me
Autoplay OFF   •   15 days ago
Long poem about:
Have you ever wondered when did the night end?
Have you ever looked around you thinking your life is going sideways?
Have you ever just kept on drowning in your self-pity and drugs?
I have, four years ago.

Six AM

At six in the morning, nothing will come out of me, although I witness the opposite:

At six in the morning, nothing will come out of me, although I witness the opposite: I think sharp, I have ideas, even visions.

But in reality, I have an only altered state of consciousness, and urge to play with a Vaseline.

But in reality, I have an only altered state of consciousness, and urge to play with a Vaseline. Vaseline.

The table is full of finished and unfinished stuff, and stuff I want to finish.

My life collapsed into finishing stuff, but it was hardly ever any different.

I was always finishing something - even just how not to finish anything, I don't do that so often any more.

Busy life cultivates a man for sure, but it's boring, I did my job, cleared my room, learned on the test and got high,

Busy life cultivates a man for sure, but it's boring, I did my job, cleared my room, learned on the test and got high, Could I want anything more?

How about happiness and satisfaction? That I'll probably never have in this world.

How about happiness and satisfaction? That I'll probably never have in this world. And also money and loving women - which is more realistic.

I'm just an idea, unable to free from this body, I look forward to what's to come, although I don't know what is it,

I'm just an idea, unable to free from this body, I look forward to what's to come, although I don't know what is it, I hope it will be nice and sweet.

But it can also be ugly and bitter: like stuck phlegm in a throat or morning waking up.

How beautiful would be the world if it's as I want it? It would be beautiful for me.

In the interest of my own sanity, I've put myself away, and act as an autopilot:

In the interest of my own sanity, I've put myself away, and act as an autopilot: A version of me with learned phrases and activities.

I know this for a while and I don't fight it, because a man needs some sort of mask that protects him from the poison of the others.

The problem is that I'm becoming my mask, going further away from myself.

The problem is that I'm becoming my mask, going further away from myself. Which has a mostly positive effect on my bank account.

I left the old sick me behind. And I still have to abandon things that makes me an idiot.

I left the old sick me behind. And I still have to abandon things that makes me an idiot. The pain is part of it. And bitterness. And if not, I'm just lying to myself again.

Complete exhaustion. Have a dream and go after it.

Some things come by itself.

Actually, everything comes by itself, just some things in a bad moment.

I don't walk towards anything: I just walk, without big expectations,

I don't walk towards anything: I just walk, without big expectations, I dream that one day I won't be just passing time. I'll be living.

See everything and need nothing more.

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