DESIRE. A Poem.

TRIGGER WARNING: relates to depression, suicidal thoughts and homelessness

I have this burning desire to move far away,

but I don’t have enough money and where would I stay?

This burning desire to leave everything I’ve known,

the tree on the corner I read under as a child, and the old shack of a house that I once called home.

This desire I can feel crawling under my skin, it sounds uncomfortable because it is.

Living in a state of oblivion, I am.

Now fighting this desire to move far away because something or someone has been pulling me in to stay.

I am neither here nor there, but stuck in between.

I drop to my knees in the middle of nowhere, letting my pain out in screams.

I am terrified, petrified, I don’t want to go on, but I will.

I will be living alive until I die, there’s no other way to know until it happens.

I feel my desires fight each other all the time,

because of this I know I am alive.

Because I can’t show how I feel,

the desire to run away from this feeling is far from unreal…

…unbelievable is the desire to stay because I know I am not happy, only content.

When I was young they told me to repent.

Alone I cry and think to myself why… am I doing this? This thing I am doing right now, why do it?

These burning desires I have slowly turned into nothingness,

my whole body going numb, quickly loosing consciousness.

Running from my problems I stopped in my tracks.

A fork in the road presented itself with no directions to follow, only the consequences lurking behind the choice I make.

It was hard for me to even get this far,

so I threw myself in the lake hoping the snakes in my life would disappear and the water would make me suffocate.

I was too late.

Something or someone had entered my life,

sparking the burning fire inside me that I can barely describe.

If I tried too I’d loose my mind, again.

And again, the burning pain of desire keeps me alive.

I still ask myself why I try,

Repeat to myself, do not cry

I’ve realized I’d rather be a sick joke than a twisted rhyme.

see more freehand drawings in the gallery and more info about their creation in my portfolio


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The Buddha said that wisdom must come only from the abandonment of selfish craving… or desire. So the principal here is, if you want life don’t cling to it, let go. But the problem is, if I desire not to desire, is that not already desire? How can I desire not to desire? How can I surrender myself, when myself is precisely an urge to hold on. To cling.. to life; to continue to survive.

The Buddha Said. Alan Watts, Akira The Don

acceptance alanwatts anxiety art awareness becoming being believe choice communication culture decisions desire energy existence existentialism experience flow freewill god human inspiration kierkegaard lgbt life love meaning perserverance Personal Philosophical Theories philosophy poem Poems pyschology reality resilience shortstory social story theexistentialist thoughts trauma water wiggles writing

Published by emriyus

I am human, just like you. I have been around for almost 20 years and although it may not be a lot of time to some, it feels like I've been alive forever. To cope with all the things my life has given me; good and bad, I've always been a writer. Maybe I didn't know or necessarily want to be a writer, but I was always on the creative side, not really understanding how different I was from others; I'm really not that different from you. To this day I'm still eager to learn more about myself, to improve and grow amorphously. I want to use this fuel of constant self-discovery as the direct source of 'energy' that can create whatever I want it to, making writing for me a healthier coping mechanism than most I've tried in my lifetime. That being said, I believe that starting my blog, The Existentialist, (all thanks to Wordpress and Bluehost teams) I finally have the opportunity and creative outlet to unleash my passion for art; writing. The beginning is never easy, and it won't get much easier I am aware. I can only believe in myself and keep my expectations to a minimum; I like to believe I hold no expectations, but they seem unavoidable. To whoever reads this, I'm not one to care about views or reads, I won't encourage/pressure you to read my work because for me, the thrill really comes from just making a finished piece of work I'm happy with, regardless if it is read by others or not; judgement from others is what I've feared all my life. I can only encourage you to have an open mind as a reader and believe in me as much as I believe in myself to accumulate the courage to start showing my creative writing(art) to the world. Everybody creates things in their lifetime, I am just another one of those beings; whether you like it or not, nouns (persons, places and 'things') exist to teach us something about ourselves. There is always more to learn...

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