schizo

About me:

This rain… I cannot remember it ever starting, crimson moon amidst stormy clouds and a constant rumble echoes afar. I always catch myself lighting yet another cigarette. Wandering around in this familiar yet unknown place I call my home town. Pitch black darkness and a thick mist surround me as I aimlessly forfeit my senses. I'm at a tavern. Aged by the elements, unlabaled ancient bottles sit on a shelf. I always catch myself getting rid of the cobwebs. Only shadows dwell in this domain; tormented 'things' I stopped called beings. Interaction with them is fruitless, for they just glitch and twitch as if trying to convey something I can’t grasp. I always catch myself sipping from the flask. This rumble has always been there, deafening, yet strangely silent. I've developed a liking for it, and I catch myself humming its haunting melodies.

Who I'd like to meet: