The Deep Sleep Review

poetry, rants, and conversations with myself

I Exist

I exist as a piece of my former self.

I exist as a shadow casting weight upon my hopes and dreams.

I exist an imperfect being,

in an imperfect world,

where perfection is required to function.

I exist because science isn’t an exact science.

Love is a sinking ship, that most would willingly board…

I exist in a time of information, when the capacity to know it all is a reality.

when presented with time to shine a moment to show my inner light I blunder purposeful in my actions,

I wonder if I’m happy with my distractions.

Listen does anyone know what time it is?

no really listen,

does anyone know what time is?

listen harder,

does anyone know?

If i think therefore i am what does it mean that i don’t want to think.

what of my character that unthought is my only solace in life.

I think too much therefore i will not.

I’ve torn myself to shreds.

I’ve left only shreds to cast shades upon my wishes for perfection I prayed to god and studied sciences for answers I’ve boarded half capsized vessels and looked towards every being in the heavens, only to realize I myself am nothing, I exist as a nothingness, a non entity yet still i exist.


Ex Nihilo

It can be said with certainty that there was no plan. Ex Nihilo was the genesis, no remnants of a dying god, no bones of a starved universe, out of nothing everything began. The first things where not in any way conceivable, beyond all conveyable description serving functions so esoteric it is only to be remembered deep in the annals of our DNA. The first things where both vastly enormous spanning the entirety of the universe, and infinitesimally small to the point of arguably not existing at all, out of this duality they established the constants: Gravity, nuclear force, electromagnetism, light, presence, and absence to name a few. All of these passed over, under, around, and through each other. At the points where they would pass through each other the first things birthed matter.

The first things created all matter in what might have been an eternity or the blink of an eye, there was no time, not until the force of life was birthed on the matter created by the first things and their forces. With the creation of life new forces began to affect our cosmos. The first after life was time, as time passed violence came, and then death followed after. An almost infinite number of lives passed, and with each life came complexity, and violence grew exponentially. As the complexity of life grew sentience emerged, sentience was given to life, but it was born from the passing of time and the violence that filled it. When the first creature realized “I am” the first war was declared. “I am” become the distinction between us and them. This division now painfully obvious opened the Pandora’s Box of civilization. Since the declaration of the first war, a trillion times over wars have been declared, fought, won, and lost. The only thing greater than living things will to survive is the violence they use to ensure survival. I can say from what I have witnessed it has taken all precedence over life. From the beginning as I have seen it, it can be said that all life is lived in the hopes of death; all time is passed in violence and its many variations.

It is not in confidence that I can say there are no gods. Though I may see all things in their entirety as they currently unfold within all scopes of possibility and impossibility it is not in my best interest to fully understand all that I perceive. So it is to be said that though gods, omnipresent deities who have been aware since the originating of the universe do not exist. Gods as we know them began with the first realization of self. When the first sentient creature declared war on his peers it did so in the name of a god. The names of gods and their reigns are unimportant. The mythology of their realms and influence is not cosmically significant. The only cosmic significance is their effect on the secondary forces. Gods serve life, they did not create it, they serve life, and they control violence, and promise death. A creature will kill to survive and need no explanation for his actions. Yet a sentient will kill and feel a pang of guilt if they do not have a reason other than survival. There are two reason for this. Sentience comes at the price of losing touch with the cosmic truth that all violence is justified, because all life is meant to be extinguished, so as to create life anew. Yet the second reason is guilt because the self the creature feels senses the self in the creature who’s life it had extinguished. The weight of the universe is too much for one mind to bear, hence the mind creates a secondary smaller universe populated by gods and forces of nature. Absent of the first and second things, man’s smaller universes began to clash recreate the beginning of the cosmos. Hence the worlds we live in their interchangeable laws, Ex Nihilo did our entirety rise. The first things in all their infinitesimal vastness gave us life, but it was violence that taught us how to live. 

The Dreams You Don’t Remember

Can one suffer from somnolence of character?

        I often dream of pulling my own teeth in front of large crowds. Dressed in a fine tuxedo, The orchestra beneath me plays swelling melodies  that come to crashing crescendos as each tooth is pulled. I find myself completly at home in the opera house complete with beautifully ornate balconies and a lush red velvet curtain.

         I can feel the warmth of my breath before I plunge my hand to grip the hard slippery enamel of my teeth. The crowd cheers as each tooth with much effort is ripped from my bleeding gums. the pain is intense and the cheers and laughter of the crowd is deafening. At the end of the teeth pulling, my lips part to reveal a hideous leaking bleeding attempt at a smile. I take a bow to the crowd and bid them goodbye with a gravitas that would humble a king.

         Upon waking I find that my dream did not unsettle me, there was no sense of dread, no abject horror had descended upon my unconscious self.  My nightmares are far more abstract, in that they are never remembered.  I know not what frightens my subconscious, save that when a horrid thought enters my mind I usually can trace its roots into my walking life.

         Even then my anxieties don’t consist of bodily harm.  I don’t fear spiders,  heights,  closed spaces,  ghost and I do not fear car crashes, nor dying at any moment, far be it in fact;  I look at my death with a sense of wonder and acceptance. My fears however are oddly existential. The thought of being a lone entity in the world. being the single source of all things and being truly the center of a reality as I perceive it is to me a horrendous thought. I barely can handle the responsibilities put forth to me by social norms how am I to fathom that because I am at the center of my experiences and how they affect my world I am now a god. How am I to ignore that if I am at the center of my universe, then all of you,  friends, family, lovers, all of you are all figments of my fevered imagination? How am I to define my existence if i am responsible for all of yours?

        someone told me life is inherently empty, I am free to fill life with my pursuits and define purpose for myself. I find that at every attempt to further my self education, every attempt to define to myself what is worth living for, every time I pursue a dream I find that on the path of realizing it; it was never my dream to begin with.  I pursue dreams provided to me by the powers that be, or by passing fancies. Is the point of life the chase?  If so what does it speak to my character that at 21 I am dead-eyed wearied.  Am I weak?  will I always be tired?

       If this is life, If I am to be pulling teeth for strangers, If my waking life and dreaming life begin to parallel, then my biggest fear is the dreams I don’t remember. what horror lies within my mind that it will not permit me to see. could it be that I am afraid of the unknown? could the thought of self mutilation for the amusement of crowds be a less terrifying thought than the advent of something unknowable?

Have I been slumbering my life away?


All we are is meat. It is a shame that this revelations comes so late in life. We all cry for help, yet the cries go unheeded its even worse to think that all our earthly plans and pursuits will amount to the simple truth. All we are is meat, so slowly we bleed to death from our eyes,  yet our bodies do not die our souls do.

In Dreams

The four prophets of old came to me in the most precious of silences, and beseeched me to listen whilst I slept. In my sleep they told the secrets the wind whispers to the earth through the trees. they spoke of all that is to come and all that has passed as if it where one. they told me my purpose and I awoke knowing the truths of mad men and the lies of those who pretend.

The Sleep Machine (Somnolence)

the tears flow free from here. My mind reels from the sleep machine it is hooked to. I cant help but feel loved. I love this terrible device, yet it needs me more than I need it.

there goes my self importance again. I used to take pills for that, green and yellow pills that taste like allspice and vinegar. those damn tears, I took my little razor blades, green and yellow. I drank them with tears, Cocaine tears caused by Heroin needles embedded in the my corpus-callosum.  Belly foul with Novocain, veins full of acid, phosphorescent thoughts drink me into nothingness.

somnolence at last.

With Passing Glances

Your a whore, I vomit obscenities into your lap. You love me don’t you? Where have you been all this time?


Your not a part of me, you figment of reality. A piece of a piece, an imperfect part of the world. I hate you! The blackness of Abbodon doesn’t compare to your grotesque excuses for eyes. Bifrons the king of ghouls has tasted fresher flesh than yours. The morning star is jealous of your tarnished heart. Your harlot ways cast you into Sodom.


I will bathe in your essence and be destroyed by your lust.


could this be love?

The Ocean is a Lie

Vast a deep void is the ocean. the ocean is blue, these are well versed lies.  knowledgeable beyond our own years, the din of silence is what old men rave about. The scent of blood in her tears the stench of love between her legs, these are the vexing things. The sight of her face, what a sight indeed. I gave her a fist full of violence, a womb full of TNT.  can you blame me? The ocean is blue, the void is black, the sky is red, the night is crimson, and the soul is cruel. the ocean is a lie, smug and dangerous. the soul is pitiful, cruel and dying. In it a secret torment a silent animal that whimpers into the void the fetid smell of it. My Anima is anemic because I hate with every fiber, with every breath. Give me cruelties I want to inject the lie into me. I want to be lost, lost in the ocean smug and deceptive, a creature beyond our grasp, a lie, a terrible little lie.

Those Days Are Over

my thighs ached, and my knees where scrapped and numb. Your back burned and throbbed yet we shot smiles between each other. We held hands, we waited for buses while I dried on your stomach. We giggled, we gambled we got nowhere fast.

We got angry, you got lonely. i got distant. you watched baby shows. I watched dirty movies. we made plans, i made offers. I bargained with bargained with me. We waited, then relief, then despair. The machine turned on, you dilated, you squeezed my hand, you are a beautiful person. I cry from time to time. I still have nightmares.

We left, we starved, we where abandoned. I abandoned you, We fought, we raised a child, we fought,  we had rough sex, we fought, we left, I abused your kindness, and again I made you leave, I followed, we fought.

Those days our over, my hands are shaky and calloused, my eyes are grayed and distant. My skin is yellowed from the self loathing. My soul is concrete, but you keep my heart warm and light, and I promise love those days are over, and over and over.


I couldn’t take it any more, she cried for 6 days straight . I left her for selfish reasons. I like to hurt her from time to time. Proof I could still be the old me. Oh but how you tantalize me . you vex me. I drive myself to brinks I cannot sustain, its my fault for being drunk with power. Its your fault for giving it to me, I couldn’t take it any more. I cried for 6 days straight, I returned for selfish reasons.