I always considered the abuse of grammar and ignorance of normal writing rules to be a reasonable tool in certain forms of poetry ... ?
Personally, I don't dislike the style you are offering. Content wise, a bit too short to say anything more than
good luck with further writing.
Thanks, and i will. The short lines i posted were warmup, and a little test on how nice they would look in Italic.
I cant post some stuff i cratted down blindly while having some kind of sensory overwhelming(Some pattern i was drawing, my eyes didnt like it):
Edit: Shit, it happens that i might have thrown it out, but it was sentences like: "I can but keep my eyes closed", and stuff "I live in Perpetual Mad(ness) in this world of disease and disorder" my favorite, that i cratted down, with twitching eyes, and shaking hands: "Dark Void, reality is perception", its the boldness of this rather short sentence that impresses me. I actually stated there is no world/its dark void when i close my eyes, maybe i am referring to the closed eye visuals i always have, if they are not scary faces and images of hell, its this dark but volumetric void. Its peaceful, silent, and just there, the joy of existence in a silent void, volumetric, and with air to breather in of my minds mouth.
Jesus crist i am being poetic while trying to tell about when i am poetic. What the hay?
I think it means i need to get out with something, but sometimes i am clueless how to pull it out, this is when i type words coming to my mind, i'd recommend that, its a good way to empty the bucket when your angry.
Peaceful, Silent, Dead but dreaming. Resting but yet flying between theese obstructive mountains of nothing, sparks in the dark, i see my realm within, here it goes. Life, stuffed it seems, with input, demanding your output, why do some of us decide to turn the eyes in to the minds spacious void? Third Eye perception of the places inside, love to yourself and loneliness. We apdapt to survive, but can this adaptive mechanism be mislead? Into the mad world of sickening and disorder? Can it revolt and rage back, building a man strong of mind? Stronger than the monster luring within? Becoming the very shackles of my inner self, giving in to civilisation, but still consulting my wise cousin of my revolting angry clockworks? I live within, and out, but never i divide, like god in trinity, i live in binarity and minority with myself and the components of my mind. Is the dark places the reality, is my third eye my real eye? Are theese laughters and mocking of theese unknowing souls just ones of my angry subdued self? Am i insane, or am i uninsane?
Hell that was some weird third eye stuff. Not that i am mad, i just tend to slip into theese stays.
Enjoy the read, and have a nice day