Inventory

Past names: AlanCrash and Chemical
Beauty and Ugliness. These are aspects of life we experience, it all depends on how we decide to manage them when they occur.

I await here, in my dream world.

Perhaps one day, I'll go out to the real world. But it's though as they intertwine with each other.
As if, I live the dreams that are lies, and dream about the saddening truth.
Hard to distinguish, not even opening my eyes wakes me up.
Perhaps, I'll pay. For the crimes I've done. Sins that I cannot outrun, from my repugnant youth.
As if, I dive down without allies, and scream deep into the void, falling further.
Hard to extinguish, flames that rose with anguish, unavaliable to makeup.

Trapped, confused, unsure of the answers I have chosen. What is it that I seek?
Surely, I must have a goal in life. A plan. A meaning. A wish. Or have I lost them?
Lost, in thought. Dangerous strife. Stripped away from my ability to speak.
Handicapped, bruised, completely frozen. To the point that I've turned numb.

I await here, in my dream world.

Clouds of darkness, toxic rain. Vulture eyes, cursed mouths. Different mind.
A monster's fate divided into various paths. Judgment day draws nearby.
Eyesight turns into a deep crimson red, slowly yet surely turning me blind.
The journey for redemption strays away, and I can't say my proper goodbye.

Silent...torture. There is nobody to aid me anymore.
Wasted chances, wasted potential, wasted life.

What is your interpretation of what I wrote?
Has it caught some...emotion?
A thought?
A glimpse of what I pour down writing this?
An opinion? Good or bad?
Has it sparked an interest?
An inspiration?
Negativity?
Boredom?
Or, simply put, nothing ?