Private Dialetheia by Dylan Tietze
Kicking around inside these heads
Questions and feelings like yours
But not just like yours
We all have genuine frustrations
Anxieties obscurely unique
If not completely indescribable
I wont ever be nailed down
As some wriggling mortal
Obsessing in vain over death
----------------------------
When were missing our old selves
We are longing for nothing at all
We were never somebody
Just expressions of thought
Briefly taking form
-----------------------------
All things made precious
In their finitude
Then we realize
Weve nothing to cling to
Dont find it callous
To dissolve these attachments
Dispel the self which stands in the way
False soul, the beast to blame
Existing to reify, to standardize
And to tame
Only in its burial will we be able to
Conceive the new traditions
New axioms to entomb
in time
Reborn
------------------------------
You stay inside looking out
At this earth, forever alien
Under cover too broad to see
Weve a blind horizon
And you live like its dead
Forever alien
-------------------------------
Shut this out
Our hero runs north
The star turns an aeon on its heart
Shrines, tatters
Ruins in our house
Rot as rust in rain
Rest as ash on air
Here is a truth
Hear shines a root
A transient thrust to the sun
--------------------------------
I am well, oh I am well
Thanks for asking
Right now I feel swell
That is until
Im honest with myself
Push and Ill admit
Right now, I feel sick
I am well, oh yes Im well
Thanks for asking
Right now I feel swell
I feel swell, I feel swell
Thanks for asking
Couldnt you tell?
---------------------------------
Ripoff religion
Resort to the sky
Still combing through stars to find
Nothing
Is there
And now we know how
Much more there is of it than us
And you dont wanna know
Theres an end youll have to live through
Was it worth it
----------------------------------
The blood is all mine
The snake is all spine
Show me a Threshold
Making clear, death from life
Let it run wild
Show me a sentiment you cant justify
But still it breathes
----------------------------------
Losing structure, losing time
In my head it might as well
Still be 1995
Alone in my room
Beloved hermetic youth
I cant leave
Amateur human. Pessimist in recovery.