Thoughts Unchained - Page 2

Beyond just sex.

Ever been so horny
you couldn't stop crying?
My face is a river of tears.
Ever needed human contact
so much you couldn't walk?
Right now my legs have failed me.

It isn't that I cannot be with someone.
I could go to the nearest nightclub
take my pick of any hollow mannequin
and assuage that simple need.

But I need so much more
than shallow, mechanical copulation
which passes for lovemaking in today's society.

I dont want sex.
I want spiritual connection to another human being.
I dont want mindless fucking.
I need to be "truly" held.
Not just physically
but emotionally and spiritually.

I dont just want it.
I NEED it.
I ache for it.
And sometimes
I feel the NEED will kill me.

We are all so alone in this world.
Yet we are given a body
and a spirit
and a mind
and the deep drive to bond.

So why
do so many of us
go through life
aching to be held
in that special way?

And why
do we all feel so isolated.
Trapped in our own cage of flesh
desperately needing to escape
and feel what its like
in another body and mind?

Yet, for all the trying
all the reaching
and all the grasping
we cannot.

And if we could escape
for just one moment
to see how another felt inside-
we would find the same total void.
The same aching emptiness.
the same driving need to be inside another
we recognise within ourselves.

I wish I lived in a more evolved society.
One where our minds
and our spirits
were used more than they are now
able to bridge that cavernous gap
between one human being,
to another.

And when we had sex,
we would truly bond
truly connect
truly become one.
And truly be able to justify
the expression
making love.

But today,
the emphasis
is placed on the physical side to sex.
Its merely
a tool for procreation.
A vice.
No different to drugs.
No different to gambling.

Two people screw,
but they are both a lifetime away
from that magical place
they should be sharing.

They are two separate souls
trapped
desperately wanting to melt into the other;
two separate minds
trapped
desperately wanting to become one
two separate bodies
moving in a way
that proves
our minds and spirits
are aching to become more
than the separate, lonely
piece of flesh we are.

It is sacrilege
the most beautiful
ecstatic gift
nature has given
is no more than a habit to some
a tool, or a weapon
or a means of power for others.

I am not a dog in heat.
I am a man.
With an inbuilt drive
to join with another.
Why am I subject to such pain
because society does not see sex
the same way I do?

Ever seen canines in heat?
uninterested in the act
eyes, lacking expression
spying out the next tree to mark
the next juicy bone to dig up-

sadly no different
than the vast majority of humankind;
emotionless, rutting animals.
shallow, mechanical beings.
Devoid of passion
bereft of the moment.

Making love
is the ultimate celebration
of being alive.
It should be done with reverence, awe
and with total commitment-
a dance of the "here and now."

And yet
thousands
of unappreciative humans
are having sex right now.
unaware of what they do.

While I sit here
alone.
My fingers,
typing these words
ever longing
to know the flesh
of the one I love.
Ever aching
to sense the touch of perfect skin.
And feel the warmth
emanating from the soul beneath.

But,
I will wait.
As I have waited
a lifetime.

I will always hold true to my belief;
sex cannot ever be about empty pleasure.

And though it kills me each day
each week
each month
and each year.
I will keep waiting
till SHE is with me.

Our emotions in song.

When I hear a touching song, it doesn't matter how many eons preceding me,

it is one person feeling something, evaluating their feelings, feeling passion enough to send it to others.

And their message and their hopes and thoughts go with it aswell.

They can touch me over the distance of a continent. They can touch me from the mists of history, and they can massage my heart from beyond the grave.

And I envy that ability;
to communicate eternally
through all time and space. All restrictions...
to leave an echo in my heart and mind.

Even the secret places I have hidden from the world,
will never be safe
from the emotions another human spirit
bleeding to connect to others
will speak to me

through the sound
of human emotion:

through music.

Frankenstein.

Creature of silicon implants
collagen lips
botoxed wrinkles
sculptured eyes
plastic nose.

And don't neglect
liposuction of the weak areas;
eradicating the fatty result
of a weak mind
conditioned to the ideal of giving up.

With the latest fads and silicon techniques
the way you look is ever so beautiful...
to the mind of a sick society.

My Space.

2 hours there
I feel unclean
I feel the urge to bathe
wash away the mental slime
of a self obsessed generation
rotten with vanity.

How much celebrated idiocy
how much self absorbed wanking
how much wasted talent
can one generation have?

A whole population
pouting, preening
posing, gesturing
praying someone will see them.
Unaware
everyone else
is too busy doing the same.

Instead of reading
they pluck their eyebrows
instead of thinking
they perfect "gang signs"
instead of developing character
they develop an ego.
Instead of evolving,
they devolve.

Into a nation of insipid show queens
and testosterone poisoned show ponies
a super race of philistines.

Vacuous women with fake chests
neanderthal men with steroidal muscles
instituting a new religion called Vanity.
As they pray for hours on their sun beds.
Thier only creed:
To be seen.

Oblivious to the fact
no one in history
has ever looked so bad.

Peacocks have nothing on you fools.

Hope: a heart shaped vessel.

Sometimes I hate this world.
Humans are so cruel.
So petty, so self absorbed.
They create so much injustice
so much pain and misery.
I wonder how I can go on.

Then I think of my heart.
And how it breaks.
And I realise,
while my heart cares
there is still good left in the world.

Pre-emptive Epitaph.

(Death. Part Two.)


Once, I was life and emotion
Once, I was a mind and thoughts.

Now,
I am just words on a page.

But those words
are now part of your thoughts.

My mind
now lives in your mind.

And by this means,
while you live
I live.

My emotions may be gone
my body dust.

But I am alive.

As my life has touched yours.

And will never be separate again.

Moments of Weakness.

Pain. My life at this time can be summed up in one simple word. How can such a small sound explain the oceanic torment I drown in?

We all feel this emotion. We all think our pain greater than all others feel. You can never tell just how bad your own pain is compared to others. Yet that doesn't matter when it hammers at your head and stabs your heart.

Dying, living, and the pain in between, is part of being alive. And so, as long as I am alive, I will accept the pain.
But oh, how it seems close to defeating me sometimes.

Like now.

My mind is a maelstrom. Confusion, doubt regret, loss.
Storm clouds of dark thoughts, crashing together.
Sending blinding strikes of mental agony through my body.

What happened? Where did I go wrong?
How did it come to this?

A human being with such love to give.
With such honor and integrity.
With such need to be held by another.
So alone.
So so alone.

Ironic, possibly the most 'popular' teenager in highschool
now sits here alone. His own thoughts the only thing to keep him company. So desperate for human contact he tells an internet site his deepest feelings.

I had so much potential once- so much to give this world.
I truly desired to change it for the better.
Yet I cannot even find my way out of the dark maze of pain and doubt I now find myself in.

Vague acquaintances, flit round my memory like ghosts.
Nameless faces, once warm, breathing people. Now cold memories; evaporating chemicals within brain cells.
Everyone of them, all gone now
All dead in the play that is my life.

And this leads me to ask: do we choose our life stories? Do we really make our own endings and the parts between? For I surely would not have written such a story to be my own.
Is there such a thing as fate? For I truly feel, whether from my own choosing, or from some divine hand- that I have been given the 'Juggernaut' of all Greek tragedies to play out.

Is it my love to be alive that makes me the one to bear such a burden, where others would long ago have quit the stage?

For we all must play our parts in the story called 'Life.' And though the pain of my part cripples me at times, I still carry the cross, and still thank existence for this chance to feel, to breathe and to have had this chance at being alive.

Even in my lowest moment, I say thank you. Thank you to whatever breathed life into this shell. Gave it feelings and thoughts and emotions. And set it forth on the path it has walked.

And I shall walk my path as it was written.

Even if I have to walk it alone. Isolated. Alienated. Bitter cold from needing the warmth of emotional intercourse only fellow humans can light me with.

Killing myself, each day, as I get up and dress alone. As I complete the daily herd ritual alone. Come home to a cold empty house alone. Then climb into a desolate bed and go to sleep alone.

In all this world, there are so many millions of hands to hold. So many millions of arms to hug me. So many eyes to stare into and see the miraculous workings of a similar mind. So many legs to wrap around me and share with me the miracle of love.

And yet.

I am alone.

Why?

I am not a freak. Im not the hunchback of Notre Dame. I am even considered attractive to some. And yet, the one thing I need so much- has eluded me a lifetime.

Ever held the door for a group of people as they get off a bus? Isn't it funny how you wait and you wait for someone to take the door for you, and they never do.

I feel my entire life, I have held that door open and let others get to where they wanted- while I stood silent. Seeing my goal. Yet never being able to reach it. Because if I let the door go, it would close and then no one would get what they wanted.

And there I have stood. Always waiting. Always holding that door when I saw my own goal I wanted so badly.

But no one has ever relieved me in my duty of holding the door. And the goals I once held have long gone. They are with the faces of people whose names are ghosts. With chemical memories in cells tied to things I once desired.

And sometimes it gets to me.

Like today.

I sit on the bus. The real bus. And think of that door I will hold when people get off. And it makes me cry.

I hide my face.

Dont let them see you cry on the bus. Dont let the mask slip. We are all in pain at times, in one way or another. But to show human emotion. Well that's just inhuman. What sort of freak would let the agony in his heart be clearly written on his face?

So I turn the other way when the tears can no longer be held, and I conceal my hurt heart, by pretending Im just one of the herd. Blank, emotionless, unthinking unfeeling, lacking in depth; as I stare vacantly out the window at this ant nest we have made of steel and concrete.

And when I get home I truly cry. I scream my loneliness into a pillow so the neighbors cannot hear.

I excrete all my disappointment, my negative emotions, my heartbreak, as salty water- which will nourish no one, and only evaporate... like my dreams did, so long ago.

And while I write this I ponder...
Who am I writing this for?
Who am I talking to?
Who is it out there who reads my words?

There are so many millions of people out there- who touch the buttons of their computers, delve into the lives of others through the cold keys of their machine- wanting to feel more than just the coldness of a plastic keyboard under their fingertips. Wanting to hear the human warmth of the words by another like themselves.

There are so many people who feel and have dreams and goals and feelings of their own. There are so many humans who want to be held and want a love like I do.

And yet they stay silent, witnesses to a human being hurting, daring to admit his loneliness and his heart to the world.

But for most, merely bored and curious, their eyes will consume these words, like all else they consume, and then their minds will find something else to entertain thier emptness.

And the ones who feel as I, will forever remain silent. As I have my whole life. Holding a door, wanting to know- what it is like, for a pure heart and genuine respect for another, to be be held by one such as myself.

And I will go to sleep tonight, like I always do.

Alone.

Needing the companionship of another like myself. Used to the feeling of sleeping in a large bed that feels a wasteland. Dreaming of the days, when women threw themelss at me. And I was too ignorant in my 'nobleness' to let that door go for another to hold.

Passing up the sublime chance to have experienced what it was like to see and feel and know the other half of myself.
The half I know exists. Buit who will now never find me.

As I have spent too long, hidden behind the mask we all wear. Too proud to show my true heart to the world.

Eternally missing that chance to have known my other half.

Im so deeply sorry,
your hands lay so full of love,
yet so lacking contact.

The Lone wolf.

I am the lone wolf,
misunderstood,
maligned.
Though I have
such love
for the pack.

A natural need
to be one with my fellows.
Yet,
I am alone.

I dont fit,
I dont understand myself,
so others understand me less.
I wish I could relate,
articulate myself,
belong.

But this wolf cant. So he is alone.

But I care for the packs survival
wether or not they care for mine.

And I sadly watch,
as alphas come,
and alphas go,
taking liberties,
instead of protecting.

And I know I could once
been an alpha.

But my thoughts are too alien,
too different to the packs traditions.
And I fear the old saying,
about power corrupting,
so convince myself,
my escape through the forest
was the right thing to do.

Now I watch;
the alphas that came after me,
tear, maim, misguide, manipulate.

Lead those they should care for,
into fights the pack has no need of.
Wage battles of corrupted egos
but fought for with loyal hearts.

My tears gush,
evertime an innocent dies,
believing in their pack,
misguided by their alphas.

But my heart, my feelings
mean little.

I listen to them howl to the moon,
dreams and yearnings of the 21st century.
I hear them howl to each other,
trying to make sense of it all.
And I hear the loneliness in their choirs
their wanting connection,
and I relate.

I feel their hopelessness at never seeing it
because they belong to a corrupted pack.
One that no longer cares for its members.

One that has every wolf clawing to be alpha
biting, gouging, killing.
To be seen above all others.
Using cunning,
to gain benefits for ONE,
when they should benefit ALL.

Yet while I cry in unison,
my call is ignored.

And perhaps for the best.
My wave of emotional angst,
could wash the pack away,
with its sheer pain for their suffering.

Still I will dog them,
ghost them,
scout them out,
and watch all they do.

For deep down,
they are MY pack.
And wether I fit or not,
I am of them.
I cannot help but care.

No matter what their alphas do,
no matter how much the pack hurts itself,
no mater how foolish their younger ones behave,
my heart is with them.

And I will still listen,
to their cries at the sky.
And still feel the need
to cry back,
deep from my heart.

Even if this hearts cry is silent,
to the pack.

A message to Generation tXt.

I am not homosexual,
nor do I love members of my immediate family, or animals,
merely because I am literate and choose to speak with a modicum of basic English.
The females in my life are not objects I own.
They do not answer to the title "Bitch" or "Ho"
The amount of people I have chosen to make love to
does not lower or raise the respect I deserve according to what sex I am.
I am neither better or worse than any other human
purely because of the hue of my skin.
I dont expect respect
the more I disrespect the world.
I don't need to wear labels, names, ostentatious fashion accessories,
to feel important or comfortable around other humans.
I do not need to connect to the hive mind
nor graze with the herd mentality
to form my ideas and opinions.
Nor will I ever need a gun, a gang, or another's backup to defend said opinions.
I am who I am.
And my standing
to those who walk through life
with their eyes shut
and their minds equally so
will forever mean nothing to me.

Ever Green.

He embraces her
with hands of slime
she does not see
for his charm hides
the effluence of his touch

His corrupt heart
rotten to the core
drums in her ears
mimicking
what she wants to hear

His lips full of lies
kiss her innocent mouth
every kiss
a spit upon honesty
a blight on truth

He evokes her emotions with trickery
seduces her with cunning
opens her up with deceit
and she gives herself to him
with ignorant bliss

Each caress
shivers down my spine

Each thrust inside her
stabs my heart

And each passionate moment
scourges my soul.


(Inspired by the thread, nice guys finish last.)

Within.

The world challenges.
Ethereally, physically
I accept.

Reality bends
shimmering heat rises.

Muscles move
flesh tightens
parts within obey.

Rejection of pain
derision of weakness
deletion of acceptance.

My mind galvineses
my body readies,

old wounds never heal
yet the spirit knits over

I grow.
Each year.
Each destruction.

Till I am
what I am
meant to be...

The Shadow

As humans we all have emotions. Some are seen as good. Some bad.

But all emotions are part of us for a reason. We have evolved ALL these emotions as a means to survive.

Jealousy, hatred, greed etc. are bad in abundance... but they also serve to make us strive to have what the person next to us has... to achieve what they have, protect ourselves and all we love.

If we didn't have these so called negative emotions, we'd still be living in caves.

Carl Yung believed that these emotions are there for a reason too... and he called them our Shadow. Our harsher, less social emotions. The darker side to us.

The ones that are bad if we do not control them.

But he also believed we should get to know our negative aspects, (our shadow.) To learn from them and why we have them.

To instead of try to repress them and have problems crop up in diferent areas, to face these negative emotions head on- and accept them as part of humanity and not cut parts of our natural feelings off because society tells you its not 'acceptable' to feel the way you do.

Accept yourself for the good AND the so called bad.

You can not fight your self. Only learn who you are and WHY you have these emotions; and then learn to shape yourself.

When we fight our negative emotions, instead of facing them head on and learn from them, we become suppressed. And we tend to find an outlet somewhere else- whether it's some kind of addiction, or killing or hurting those around us.

In order to not become repressed and have problems we don't understand or realize we even have- we need to straight away face negative feelings/ our Shadow, and delve into them/It, so as to control them/ It. And not let them/ It control us.

I have been doing this for years. I have a Shadow. And it comes out at times.

This is a normal human thing which is common in times of sadness or stress. And instead of fight it and repress my natural feelings- I search inside myself and try to see why my negative emotions are there. And what positivity can be gained from them. Much rather than hiding them deep down until I implode.

(Some people throughout history have let their Shadow reign supreme and I believe they have lost their battle for inner balance and therefore their true human side. That is wrong in all ways. Don't ever hide your Shadow. But don't ever let it control you.)

I let it out and it is on a collar because I have learnt to master my Shadow/ negative emotions enough so as to not destroy myself by letting It obsess me. Or by fighting natural emotions by bottling myself up until my own inner destruction.

I am not perfect. I am human. But I strive for balance and happiness through my searching of inner feelings. And when I find things that are not liked by society, I analyze them and learn from them. I sometimes let them out like a kettle on the boil.

To me this is the only way to stay alive.

We all have a Shadow. You can leap and dodge all you like. But your shadow will always be there.

Shadow's Mantra

300 sit ups each day.
In honour of those who inspire me.

100 kilos each bench press.
For each girl you fucked and dumped that year.

15 kilometres each run.
For the number of years I've loathed you.

Im coming to get you Mr Arrogance.

These Mortal Feelings.

Heavenly ecstasy.
Happiness like balloons.
Unfathomable passion.
High as celestial clouds.

Hell ridden agony.
Sorrow like anchors.
Indescribable pain.
Low as deepest chasms.

Pure ecstasy in mind.
Pulsing waves of humming bliss.
Experiencing breathless joy.
Moments moaning pleasure.

Cruel torment inside heart.
Veins flowing with sorrow.
Enduring suffocating angst.
Times of screaming sadness.

These emotions, they are me.
I accept all of them.
Revel and bathe in them.
Celebrate, honor them.

And forever desire,
to bask in this wonderful,
amazing, miraculous,
existence, we, call, Life.

Hey Chained, are you still keeping up with that Shadow's Mantra workout? When did you start it and how has it been working for you?