Rain Walk.

Rain pours with force while the afternoon grows grey and dark. There is no sun to set, there is no last bright light to follow. And the murder of a new sun that I carry in my heart begins to fade. Stupid feelings sometimes I get. Stupid rainy afternoons that screw everything up. And now both my heart and soul feel as if crushed by the weight of the destruction of something beautiful. Once that made me feel better, now I just don’t know how I will go on. Stupid depression that comes through waves of anguish and fear. Guess I could use a rain walk, but it doesn’t rain anymore, just shadows remain to haunt me.

Guess shit do happens, and I got no one to talk with right now. And as always I end up screwing up everything. Fuck, I don’t even have the time to walk down to the park, or the pub, or the graveyard. I can’t break down. That’s the worst part of all. Even if I wish, I can’t break down. No time to cry, no time to feel, to time to hate, no time to go out for blood. No time to do all what I should do. Stupid bizarre feelings I sometimes get. Can’t we just run away for a couple of seconds? Can I just disappear for a day? I know it is selfish and coward, but can I get one day out? Just fade from all existence and return the next day. A day where there is no need to feel, no need to think, no need to worry, no need to work, no need to come up with an hypocrite smile at every corner. Well, maybe not entirely alone, but with the angel I love. The only one that inspires true feelings. But, can we get a day off this planet, this life, this time? We should have one.

Fuck, there is so much pressure, so much air pressure. So many expectations, and it is all so frail, so fragile. One little stupid call and everything falls. Oh, fuck it kid, get a grip. A grip from where? Ah? From shadows and thought, and despair and confusion? Get a grip and go back to work? Ignore all what flashes through your mind and heart, ignore all what you feel, ignore all what I feel? Just put it aside and pretend that nothing ever happened? Oh well, my dear, I can see one or two failures in your master plan. Specially that I have everything present at the same time. I see everything at the same time, and if I focus too much on something, I blow it all. We already know this, we have known it for such  long time. And still, we keep on falling, just because of a feverish heart and a cold brain. Oh sweet melancholia o’ mine. But I know, i feel. And I feel more that I’m supposed to do, and I care more that what I should. But yes, that’s me, what are you gonna do about it my dear sunshine? There is nothing I can do, that’s just how I am. And well, if I screwed it up, guess I should find the answer. Or do something about it, instead of typing so hard that I’m gonna break my keyboard. But fuck, I need to let go of this stupid tension, and there are no punks to kick around. Just the bloody keyboard and my work. 

And what are we gonna do, well, I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.

I told you I don’t have all the answers, therefore neither do you. Well, both my heart and soul plays quite amazingly.

And this stupid self discussion is leading up to no where. Shouldn’t we get our ass to work. Cause let me remind you my heart, we both have some pretty hard things to do. But since you just want to erase mankind from the planet and shove the world up God’s ass, well, I doubt we’ll be productive. So you better go and burn some of that in the streets, or in the room, or in the pub, or wherever you want. Kill if you need to kill, destroy if you need to destroy, cut your veins and bleed and feast on your own blood, throw half your work through the window, I don’t care. Just go and get back to be yourself. Stop worrying, stop bothering, and if you need to go all hell-fire and brimstone, that’s fine with me. And if you need to go medieval on someone’s ass, that’s ok. So go, kill, murder, burn, maim, use all the unnecessary violence you need. But stop whining and feeling like shit fore whatever circumstances that are, were, and will be beyond your control. Chuck all the goddamned shit and fuck it. Get hold of your fucking self. And if you need to go and buy a machine gun and fill his guts with lead, you’ll do a favor to this world. So, to reinforce what’s already been told; fuck your damned stupid worrying and do something productive. You’ll get nothing out of just worrying and caring. You need action. Plant a bomb in a temple, or whatever, I really don’t care, all I need is you back here so I can finish the work.

This is my rational mind and soul and heart conversing, by the way.  

- Dark Shadow!