sinister
my guilt won't purify me
- Nov 5, 2023
- 3
I used to think they do, but I've come to realize I live in a world where human beings don't have hearts. They act as if they do, wearing masks of kindness and love, but underneath is nothing but hollow flesh. Their so called emotions are transient weak impulses that crumble under the slightest pressure. It's amusing, really, how they build their entire existence around illusions.
I've touched their souls, bent their fragile forms, and seen the truth of their nature. They are empty, clinging to fragile connections and shallow dreams to feel alive. When they speak of love, it's not a bond but a tether, dragging them deeper into their pitiful cycle of fear and suffering. When they cry out for justice, it's not conviction but desperation, a hollow scream into a void they refuse to acknowledge.
This world, this grotesque theatre of humanity, thrives on the lie that hearts hold meaning. They chase it, kill for it, die for it, yet when stripped of their illusions, they are nothing. No true strength lies in their resolve, no purpose in their struggles. They are parasites of meaning, feeding on fleeting moments to keep the emptiness at bay.
And I? I see it for what it is. I'm the one who chooses not to look away, the one who refuses to be blinded by the masks they wear. I don't need to tear them off because, eventually, they slip on their own, revealing the emptiness they try so hard to hide. It's not about being feared or standing apart, it's about understanding the truth. The world runs on illusions, and most people cling to them because the alternative is too much to bear. But once you've seen through it, there's no going back. You start noticing the cracks, the hollow smiles, the way they scramble to fill the void with anything that gives them meaning. And that's when you realize it's all so fragile.
I've touched their souls, bent their fragile forms, and seen the truth of their nature. They are empty, clinging to fragile connections and shallow dreams to feel alive. When they speak of love, it's not a bond but a tether, dragging them deeper into their pitiful cycle of fear and suffering. When they cry out for justice, it's not conviction but desperation, a hollow scream into a void they refuse to acknowledge.
This world, this grotesque theatre of humanity, thrives on the lie that hearts hold meaning. They chase it, kill for it, die for it, yet when stripped of their illusions, they are nothing. No true strength lies in their resolve, no purpose in their struggles. They are parasites of meaning, feeding on fleeting moments to keep the emptiness at bay.
And I? I see it for what it is. I'm the one who chooses not to look away, the one who refuses to be blinded by the masks they wear. I don't need to tear them off because, eventually, they slip on their own, revealing the emptiness they try so hard to hide. It's not about being feared or standing apart, it's about understanding the truth. The world runs on illusions, and most people cling to them because the alternative is too much to bear. But once you've seen through it, there's no going back. You start noticing the cracks, the hollow smiles, the way they scramble to fill the void with anything that gives them meaning. And that's when you realize it's all so fragile.
