Be a Supporter!

InsanctuaryInsanctuary

Main News Audio Favorites Reviews Stats 173 Fans
Follow Insanctuary

Contact Info / Websites

The drug that is death

2013-12-12 14:37:35 by Insanctuary

For something we fear greatest of all, it's awfully strange that we're addicted to it. When someone dies, we react to it in a way that a person lives in someone else's experiences, for they did not gain enough self esteem to value their own experiences. It's something that shares the form of abusing drugs .-. how we find ourselves going back into the monster's lair with the same hope of fixing ourselves after such endeavors were proven futile the first dozen instances. Death is the hidden heroine in our lives .-. it does reveal ourselves more than heroine, however. The place death is accepted at is entirely contorted compared to the true essence of death .-. the room where death is oftenly mourned over is commercialized and computerized in a way that it's never the same as burying your loved one with a tightly knit group of those you love .-. where nobody else can siphon the energy that had been driven out of a once conscious vessel of experiences somewhere out in a truly mundane and natural atmosphere .-. where you do not have to spend any money, and only time that's worth your while. Otherwise you'll find yourself in a quiet room along with a commercial person that has zero experience standing next to your dead loved one lying motionless in a casket .-. repeating the same emotionless, irrelevant speech about your loved one, while you either are keeping your emotions in, or drawing them out on the wooden bench .-. surrounded by very few loved ones. The rest being people that are using this death to fill their own voids they had the chance to reconcile before.


Comments

You must be logged in to comment on this post.


mindchamber3mindchamber3

2013-12-23 23:15:13

"No past stays forgotten" i enjoy reading your workings because all i see is what humanity does to one another i was commonly exiled because of various factors like i was the smart one , the one with the skin condition , the ugly one , the loner , the weirdo and now branded a "psycho" but all i can say is society did this to me i just wanted to do something with my life and was put down by others untill i could not work anymore so my work diminished my friends left me and my life ruined with no where to go i simply wasted away listening to voices telling me to end it pusing me to suicide and i tried and failed now all i do is shuffle on in life doing nothing getting me nowhere and currently im in college with 3 friends one of them which i can be myself around i see once a week not able to tell her how i feel because they all want to speak to the mute but never want to listen to the only words i speak leaving me alone and scared because i cant see where my life is headed apart from sure ruin and desparity.

sorry if im burdening you with my pointless stories but nobody else cares for what i say i just hope one day people will.

Insanctuary responds:

Is there any possibility that you are at fault somewhere in the midst of this crisis? I have my own faults, and I take them into grand consideration. You?


e-lorde-lord

2013-12-13 23:59:22

writing this stream of consciousness is what keeps you sane.

that's what i got out of your paragraph there.

whatever floats your boat i guess.

Insanctuary responds:

We tell this phrase to many people throughout our lives, but we do not take the time to realize that the ships are commonly sinking.


e-lorde-lord

2013-12-12 17:57:21

i always find your writings to be totally distant and uninteresting

the reason for this is because you never cite sources or mention personal experiences that are relevant to the topic you're posting about, instead opting to use sweeping generalizations that can often read as condescending

i think if you try to relate to your reader more with specific, easy to understand examples you'll be a much better writer

(Updated ) Insanctuary responds:

I'm not trying to be a writer. I am purposely jotting down whatever comes down off the top of my head for the sheer potent need to express myself throughout the circumstances which pay no heed to my life's toll then .-. that is where my writing gives me a small sense of closure to what is otherwise an inevitable fallout. Have you ever written on a piece of paper while tears came down upon the literary arts you wished to convey to another .-. only to ignore the ruin you've caused, for you were too focused on your own ruin within? How I write is the least of my concern right now .-. it's what I write that is keeping me from slipping off of this silver helix.


eatmeatleeteatmeatleet

2013-12-12 16:23:39

true

Insanctuary responds:

I wish it wasn't.