Back To Death (Saturday, February 13, 2010)

I have these thoughts that are like a maze through my mind and emotions akin to a tangled web caught on shattered dreams. I wonder if perhaps they are fueled by my ire or if it is my sorrow that causes them to bloom? Birthed from these feelings are the visions of rending flesh and corpses. The screaming of the damned and the crying of the shamed. I hear and see them like a constant echo in my head. Where can I hide from my own self created images? I seek release from pain never asked for and yet I'm constantly dragged back into reality. It's during this that I can hear death calling. Whispering, urging, promising. Death acts like a fine temptress when showing me the desires of which I cannot speak. I know death wants me. I can feel death wrapping me in its suffocating embrace. Drawing me down into the abode of the defleshed ones. Should I scream would anyone hear me? Do I even want to be helped? From the moment I was born was I not meant to be deaths and death meant to be mine?
Some may consider this logic twisted, but why? I wonder if it isn't because they also have these thoughts, but more securely hidden away. Life seems to be a thing of constant denial. No one ever wanting to admit their deepest fears or wants. Afraid of being condemned or mocked. I am only now learning to accept these ideas as my own reality. I am not a death seeker nor would I purposefully try to take my own life. It is the thought of death that intrigues me. I'm in constant wonder of what may be waiting at that time. I am curious about the sensations I would go through. When I think of death I imagine an intense emotional release. Pure feeling and complete understanding. This may come from a variety of dreams I've had on the subject, because within my dreams my emotions are very overwhelming. At the same time, however, they are very clear. The emotion is perfectly understood without the confusion that many find in reality.
Inside I feel lost and empty. I know something is missing and I connect my attitude towards death to this void. I keep searching for that one thing that will fill the hole yet it always seems to elude me. At first I thought it might be something that only another person could give me, but upon further analysis I have come to discover that what I'm searching for is an emotion. Some may say love, but I am not too sure of this. I doubt it is any one emotion in particular, but rather it is the strength of the emotion. I want to be consumed with the feeling. Leaving no space for anything else. Death plays upon this desire and uses it to lure me further into its greedy grasp. In death I am promised that ultimate feeling. The ebbing of life just might end up being my sweetest ecstasy.