Horror Horizon

Blood Madness, Silent Noise!
Mental Chaos Of Social Anxiety Disorder.

Horror Horizon
Written By P.S.
Theme – Depression.

Eating Disorders.

Anxiety.

Self Harm.

Phobia.
1 – He’s super stressed.

He’s super depressed.

Paranoia Press.

Dissociation progress.

Anxiously present.

Imaginary dependance. 

Delusional torments.

Filling up dead rodents.

Silent then suddenly violent.

Unknown enemy, unknown friend.

Can’t sit here, can’t stay patient.

Head-Horror-Horizon dent.
2 – Irrational Fear.

False accusations are here.

Getting ready to pierce.

Paranoia sets near.

Psychotic behavior.

What to do now? Mirror Meaner.

Scales Cleaner.

Phobia Premiere. 

Madness tear.

Distortion team curve.

Blade Adjusts.

This ruckus.

Blade Adjusts.

Punch it! Bloody shit! Punch!!!

Blade Adjusts.

Dissolution Cut.

Blade Adjusts.

Wrenching gut.

Blade Adjusts.

Medicative Mud.

Blade Adjusts.

Horror thuds.

Blade Adjusts.

With parallels.
3 – Socially Dead.

An odd Co incidence.

Victimized lens.

Emotional imbalance.

Horror Ambulance.

Self despised detachment. 

Anxious Severance.

Bubbling tolerance.

Unstable mood variance.

Logical Divergence.

Panic sets at night’s crescent.

Guilty!!!, Hence,

How to repent?

How to seek penance?

Only shinning judgement.

Seems to be the logical engagement.

Seems to be the only slapping derailment.

From The Hell of existence.
4 – Self Harmer Carelessly Swinged.  

Triggering mind kills.

Blades Never Quit.

Skeptic Disk.

Focusing Risk.

Mind Kicked.

Body Ditched.

Nasty Hits.

Pressurised drifts.

On the skin.

Opening terrific.

Flesh Filth.

You deserve it.

You imperfect brick.

You fat quilt.

Burdened with food guilt.

Purge! till head your absolutely spins. 

Starve! till eyes can’t meet the mist.
5 – Blade Adjusts.

This ruckus.

Blade Adjusts.

Punch it! Bloody shit! Punch!!!

Blade Adjusts.

Dissolution Cut.

Blade Adjusts.

Wrenching gut.

Blade Adjusts.

Medicative Mud.

Blade Adjusts.

Horror thuds.

Blade Adjusts.

With parallels.
6 – He’s super stressed.

He’s super depressed.

Paranoia Press.

Dissociation progress.

Anxiously present.

Imaginary dependance. 

Delusional torments.

Filling up dead rodents.

Silent then suddenly violent.

Unknown enemy, unknown friend.

Can’t sit here, can’t stay patient.

Head-Horror-Horizon dent.

 

 

Advertisements

Aroused

It’s True.

Written By P.S.

Theme – Depression.

Anxiety.

Self harm.

Eating disorders.

Addiction.
(Trigger Warning)
1 – Everything Blacks – out.

Every contact is foul.

Don’t interact, with your mouth.

Destructively operating and everything shuts down.

Smack yourself against the crowd.

Of societal  nouns.

Of societal grounds.

Lowering standards of self doubts.

Again getting strong & loud.

Self Harmer temptedly aroused.
2 – It’s all about the blade must.

It’s all about the blade thrust.

It’s all about that relieving rush. 

It’s all about the deep burst.

It’s all about the guilt worst.

It’s all about the scenery of blood shrugs.

Every time cursed.

Every time rubbed.
3 – Binged and purged.

Weakening submerged.

Dissociative serves.

To body and nerves.

Strange voices heard.

They begin to learn.

Your weakest turn.

Making you burn.

Making you concerned.

Making you follow its instructions.

Vile junction.

Bile abruption.

Nauseous proportions.

Digestive food abortions.

Blacking out cautions.
4 – Helpless Cope.

Hopeless bowl.

Never been told.

How to hold?

This chokes.

This pokes.

Out of control.

But the most.

Illogically – logical, inner feeding host.

Vulnerably gropes.

Strong gripness and furious hold.

Blood cone.

Blood enroll.

Brain sold.

Cognitions torn.

Gun reload.

Trigger Rode.

Failure phone.

Of unnheard moans.
5 – Everything Blacks – out.

Every contact is foul.

Don’t interact, with your mouth.

Destructively operating and everything shuts down.

Smack yourself against the crowd.

Of societal  nouns.

Of societal grounds.

Lowering standards of self doubts.

Again getting strong & loud.

Self Harmer temptedly aroused.

Into The Wild By Erin Hunter.

Quiet

Mahadev 🙏 (S)

Quiet.
Written By P.S.
Theme – Depression.

Anxiety.

Addiction.

Self Harm.

Eating Disorders. 

Mental Health.

(Trigger Warning)

1 – Riot.

Tired.

Anxiety liar.

Insomnia fire.

Blade desire.

Urges higher.

Urges hired.

Blood drier.

Abnoxious surveilled diets.

Everything remains quiet.

Just tired

Just quiet.

2 – Cinematic gleam.

Collapsed heaps.

Bleeding gently.

Bleeding everyday, every week.

Dirty deeds.

Dripping on feet.

Guilt regimes.

Painful screams.

Extraordinary scene.

Of suppressing, relief lean.

Depression clean.

Everything’s red but, the world is again green.

Quietly bring a team.

Bring your needs.

And fall down on your knees.

Bangs on self esteem.

Madness speaks.

Damn! How weak?

How are you so weak??

3 – Riot.

Tired.

Anxiety liar.

Insomnia fire.

Blade desire.

Urges higher.

Urges hired.

Blood drier.

Abnoxious surveilled diets.

Everything remains quiet.

Just tired.

Just quiet.
4 – Trigger table.

Damaged cable.

Vicious enable.

No! Good night, later.

“Haha”, laughs of evil favor.

Nasty galaxy crater.

Supreme fader.

Hate irritator.

Impulse surrender.

Action mender.

Pleasure seductor. 

Guilt rupture.

Possessive structures.
5 – Black and white.
Just fight.

This height.

Misfunctional device.

Vehicle seat belt tight.

On a driving night.

Switch on your headlights.

This is gonna be a nasty ride.

And you might,

You might not even cry.

After its done absolutely right.

Flying like a kite.

Black and white.

Don’t worry! Chew and bite.
6 – Riot.

Tired.

Anxiety liar.

Insomnia fire.

Blade desire.

Urges higher.

Urges hired.

Blood drier.

Abnoxious surveilled diets.

Everything remains quiet.

Just tired.

Just quiet.

Failed

…Smother Another Failure! Lay this to rest. Console yourself, you’re better alone. Destroy yourself, see who gives a fuck! Absorb yourself, you’re better Alone. Destroy yourself!!! (Laid To Rest By Lamb Of God)

Written By P.S.

Theme – Madness.

Depression.

Anxiety.

Self Harm.

Addiction.

Low self esteem.
(Trigger Warning/Explicit)
1 – Failed! Failed! Failed!

To exactly communicate.

Emotional rape.

Nauseous hate.

Toxic trade.

Blasting rate.

Of mind pain.

Of mind shame.

Loops obtained.

Weakened to faint.

Tainted paint.
2 – What have you done?

Can’t you just self destruct?

“You empty mug”.

“You empty cup”.

“You’ll fail trust!”.

“You fail and rust!”.

Like a useless junk.

Like a rotting dump.

Fun becomes.

Terrifying bumps. 

Lane jump.

Accidental numb.
3 – Fear unknown.

Something not told.

Last remaining remote.

How to hope?

How much cold.

When your soul is sold.

To evil evokes.

Failing to erode.

Speeding on a holes filled road.

Thoughts hold.

To a blade provoke.

And emotions mould.
4 – Anxious nights.

Petrified.

Immobilized.

Horrified.

Paralyzed.

How to describe?

Dimensional cries.

Help dies.

Guilt rise.

Sharp dice.

Pain alive.

A war void.

A war wide.

A shoot sight.

A lost fight.

Relieved mind.

Erasing time.

Disguised!

In A While.
5 – Failed! Failed! Failed!

To exactly communicate.

Emotional rape.

Nauseous hate.

Toxic trade.

Blasting rate.

Of mind pain.

Of mind shame.

Loops obtained.

Weakened to faint.

Tainted paint.

Upcoming…

So, have you had enough of my poetries???

The uncertainty remains.

As every time when it does I surely remember to write, it’s been one of my rock pillars to help me personally. Upcoming posts will be a series of new work featuring everything from the voices, to the ideation,  variations and most importantly wordplay. Which has been certainly the pattern from the starting of my writings. 

Manvi Sharma (Psychologist)

Depth and gripness. 

Red Coloured Paint (I.A.P.G. Impulse, Action, Pleasure, Guilt)

Impulse (Noun)

A strong and unreflective urge or desire to act.

Action (Noun)

The fact or process of doing something; typically to achieve an Aim.

Pleasure (Noun)

A feeling of happy satisfaction or  enjoyment.

Guilt (Noun)

The fact of having committed something wrong or have implied failure, offence or crime.

Credits: SATI_TheMystique.

Red Coloured Paint (I.A.P.G)
1 – Where will you go?

How will you cope?

When there’s just a fan and a sight of a rope.

And it turns to only one of your remaining last hope.

You start writing suicide notes.

In guilt, when the pain is more.

Earlier than before.
2 – What will you ask for?

Fucking end it all.

With a final call.

A call to make you shock.

A shock to make you knock.

A knock to make you empty like a rock.

An empty rock to make you small.

So small to make you end the pain cause.

A pain cause to build your walls.

With those walls, your mind mauls.

Bloody body is hauled.

Depression knot.

Anxiety clot.

Self harm mock.

Insomniac brawl.
3 – How will you stop?

How will you solve?

How ill, will you fall?

Ravaging dissolve.

Impulse – A Loop, a ball.

A vicious weavement of thoughts.

An Agent Of Chaos.

Action – An arousing pod.

Pleasure – A seductive boss.

Guilt – The splash of the sauce.

Drip – drip.

A releived grin.

Across my chin.

Just lose it.

And stains fill.

Blood on my nail prints.

This man who’s accusative.

Shine of the sedative, palliative.

Mind repetitive.

Screaming,”rule of 10 hits.

You fat bitch!!!

Why did you ingested?”.
Old nightmares haunts with a butcher’s knife.

A rope appearing nearer and nearer with that dreadful smile.

I might kill myself tonight.

Because nothings alright.

So I’ll become the sacrifice.

Modified,

To vice.
4 – It’s no more a game.

When scars begin to fade.

The urges make you vulnerable in shame.

Night time makes,

To lose my shades.

A tool innate.

A tool intricate.

Chugging down liquor generates. 

Unlimited wage.

Of severe self hate.

Precision of my mistakes.

Played, replayed.

Mind Slaved.

Human brain.

Impulse – You can’t wait.

Action – Objection is sustained.

Pleasure – Draining the pain.

Guilt – And the devil rapes.

Time to time, again and again.

Until he mutilates. 

Until I suffocate.

In a RED COLOURED PAINT.
5 – In depth.

My blade lies beside my bed.

A bleeding fest.

Cheek bones bruised red.

From rapid punching of myself.

Only exhaustion left.

Something begins to fade my present.

From the torment.

As many, and when I make more dents.

On my ugly flesh.

Borderline refreshed.

Necessary evil exponent.

Impulse – Self Harm Savage.

Mental Mallet.

Action – Depression Valid.

Tool – kit, Solid.

Pleasure – Annihilation Jotted.

Areas Spotted.

Guilt – Emotions Distraughted.

Visions Distorted.

RED PAINT KNOWLEDGE.

Written By P.S

Unfigured Disfigured.

SATI is pure.

How is this possible?

Is the main question to start with. I mean how? Seriously, this was not I was looking forward to. It has chewed me down and have swallowed me alive. The ambiguous, unknown and such strange thoughts are wrecking me. The pattern, the shapes, the structures, the design; It’s like I can see through it all clearly and understand it as well. Sorting connections. Simultaneously, one by one, a havoc, an unsolved puzzle is appearing before me which I need to to figure out somehow.
Honestly, I see her as a powerfully evolved hybrid creature, opening my third psychedelic eye or senses; like the genre in music particularly known as ‘Hi-Tech Dark Psychedelic Experimental Trance’. When I vibe with her it honestly feels like a strong rush, making my knees go weak and heart been stabbed multiple times (Don’t get me wrong, just referring to the sensations of extreme closeness, hardcore attachment to her, felt). I am a part of her and she’s a part of me.
My life is like on Acid Trips these days. It feels like all buttons of the controls have been misfunctioning, the time in particular, to be precise is like ceased. It has stopped and something deep inside me is whispering “Forget It”.It’s deep down but it’s surely there. At the same time the connections I’m able to perceive are on a completely different level or Dimensional Zone.
A very strange place, it is something most would never get it’s depth and intensity. For them it is what is known as Love. To be honestly specific, my emotions are much more complicated than that. Trust me, believe me.

When I have practically lived in that dimension and not just merely existed, ate there, got shelter there, found solace and comfort, worked there and finally did the best I could’ve possibly done in service.

But this guilt has stricken me down on my knees, thoughts such as, “We are made for each other, but can’t be together”. Realisations of being such a cold hearted human when she gave her absolute best to me.
The thing is my evil mind won’t shut off. This psychedelic experience has generated both good and bad vibes inside of me. I even feel ashamed after working my best, my words are not able to properly communicate through my poetries what I personally feel for her. That’s why I’m writing this.

A soft corner, so gentle and pure how can I express? Even my words fail when it comes to explaining or elaborating to others what the situation is. My poetries doesn’t deliver any kind of justice to this to be honest. Two pieces, and I still was not able to figure this out. I feel failed at my job or at my Art or skill, talent etc.
The intensity of these emotions has shocked me to my core. I’m a dark entity and she deserves someone who can make her happy. But vibing with her is what actually surprises, confuses and finally also gives a sense of satisfaction in me. These waves are strong and are not some transient or temporary amplifications. What if I feel this way for the rest of my life?
I’ve been getting goosebumps, nocturnal leg cramps, weakness, jitters, shakes. Most of all this has made me depressed, I can’t sleep, can’t eat, self harm urges, big time anxiety, OCD variants like, walking within a small space, rapidly pacing back and forth constantly for hours. A sick wrenching feeling inside my gut. These are the physical manifestation and possession of these emotions. These emotions are actually very raw, versatile and complex in it’s own nature.
It’s like I am in no position to feel this way for her, not permitted or allowed and held within strict rules, I’ve gone out of my way somehow. Being a Borderline is not as easy as it is just only pronounced.
(Conclusion)

The interpretation is quite intriguing for me because she’s quite intimidating and challenging for me. Can’t be pursued no matter what.

What I can’t understand are these feelings. Where are they coming from? How is it possible? And finally not even a million years.
The only thing which I consider myself to be is a dark, hollow, contaminated, toxic and evil self destructive creature.

This time unlike earlier I will indeed cross those sea shores and miles never been ever touched, to destroy or destruct myself. Thats what I’m best at. I accept that I’m a mental wreck and everything can be easily scattered and shattered. And so will I. I Can already see the doomsday Sati.