Kill The People. Vade The Land

War.
The sun sleeps. From the west, they come. The fire snake weaves. A caravan of thieves and murderers. Warning screams. Too late, they're dead. Save the women to rape. Only few escape.
There was so much blood.
A political mastermind. A cunt spitting lies. Distract their eyes. God damn your eyes.
There was so much blood.
All this for oil under another mans earth? Drown us in tar to keep your secret. We who survived stand together. We won't be conquered by invaders.
(DIE) We won't be conquered by invaders. (DIE) We won't be conquered by invaders.
We'll drive them out. Back to the sea. Smash their heads with rocks. Eat their flesh. Gain strength.
War.

Death... again...

By now you all know (those of you who read this) I'm terrified of death. My own death, obviously. It's progressively getting worse... Not good. I'm getting sick of this. Every now and then a voice will just say "You're going to die. You're not going to exist. And it happens every night. Every. Night. Even writing this makes my heart race and fill with fear. I'm scared... Very scared. I tried reading texts to help combat this but it just made it worse! Again, right now, my heart is racing, my chest is tight, my leg is tapping with anxiety and my breath is stuttered. What the hell? And it's not that I'm really afraid of not existing, because eternity ALSO scares me! What will I be doing if I get to Heaven, if it exists? BUT! Thinking about dying tomorrow doesn't scare me that much. It scares me FAR less than when I'm old and eternity. Not that being old itself scares me. Maybe it's the thought that it's so long away? Even if I'm 'reborn' or some crap like that, I don't like that either because it won't be my consciousness, it'll be someone else. Even if it's my soul it's someone elses mind and our minds are our consciousness and consciousness is what makes us who we are. I have long believed that thought is the defining factor. My thought is betraying me. It may sound immature or childish or small or stupid, but I don't want to die. In all honesty, I have to hold back some tears, even though I'm just typing this. I don't want to die. Life is wonderful and beautiful. The mountains and seas and the forests and animals and skies of all the different planets in this universe and maybe other universes, too. Why, then, if I love life am I focused on death? In the articles it mentioned about depression. I suppose I am depressed. I don't know what about? I have one more test and I'm out of school forever, I have a beautiful and fun girlfriend, I'm going to start a band with a friend that I've been looking forward to doing for a few months, it's summer, I'm an adult, I'm getting better at guitar, I have good friends, I'm alive, what do I have to be depressed about? What the fuck is wrong with me?! Why can't I just be happy for once? What is this accomplishing? I am a man of the present. Not the past or the future. I firmly believe that we should learn from the past, plan for the future but stay in today and not dwell on the past or jump to the future. Why, then, is my mind constantly in the future?! It's pissing me off. My thoughts betray my beliefs. It's horrifying. It really is. I'm depressed but I'm hardly going to commit suicide, am I? First of all, I am against suicide straight out. It's selfish and spits in the face of life. Secondly, I'm quite obviously, in case you haven't noticed, scared shit less of it! Even thinking two years in the future scares me. I mean, you don't know what's going to happen. What will it be like? And then I think "Well I'm just two years closer to death." Sweet..... Positive thoughts, eh?.. I feel old.. Don't fucking start! "You're not old." I KNOW I'M NOT! I feel old. Worn and torn, beat up and discarded, chewed up and shat out. Lovely. I don't feel my age. I feel much, much older. But I don't have the life behind me. My Granny is 66, she has the life behind her and she seems young. I'm 18, feel old and don't have the life behind me. It never goes away. I used to get it every now and then. It first started when I was just a little boy, seriously. It's my earliest memory. I was in a cot or something like it and Nuala was asleep. It must have been in the middle of the day because the curtains were closed but it was bright outside. I can tell because the colour of the curtains lit the room the same colour. I remember having the same feeling I have now and it scaring me. I cried, said I didn't want to die, tossed for a while then nothing. Must have fallen asleep. Then every 2 years or so from 8 or 9 onwards it would attack me for a week or two then I would be fine. This has lasted since January. It wasn't too bad then, it's terrifying now. How do you dispel a fear that has been life long? I don't know if I can. I really don't... I'm sick of this. Absolutely sick of this shit. Me, afraid? I fear very little. Not be blowing some tuff guy horn, just not a lot of things do scare me. But typical Ronan, the things that I'm not scared of don't affect me in any way, the things that do terrify me in to a lack of sleep and mental health problems like short bursts of extreme anxiety and tormented reasoning. That's all I can think of right now...

Woman. Dancer. Poet. Daughter. Sister. Human. Friend? Emma.

You there. Yes, you. Woman, dancer, poet, daughter, sister, human. Friend?.. Maybe still. Come. Sit. Read. Does the past assume we will continue in future? Or does the present dictate that we are what we are? What are we? In the end, that is. Finite, I suppose. But what does the present say we are. Not what we were or who we will or might be, but who we are. Children, still. In that I don't suppose a thing. I know.
Woman: You are beautiful. I saw you today for the first time in a while. I got a good look. You look well. You look healthy. Do not confuse my words. Do not search deeper for something that isn't there. And do not reject them. Accept with grace. You are strong, though you profess weakness. I know you are, though I may not really know you. I see confidence in you. Let it shine brighter than you do.
Dancer: I've never seen you dance, but I've heard you're good. You look fit. It makes you happy, it keeps your mind, body and will strong. It gives you something to live for. Something you can feel. Keep it. Ignore what they say, if it makes you happy keep doing it. Even if you don't get where you want to, keep doing it and you'll find a way to, though the where may change.
Poet: Inside you there is a rhyme that always flows in 'free verse'. Sometimes the lines will sound the same but the meaning is more important. Your thoughts. Your last was joyful. Although I didn't show it, that made me smile. I was happy for you. Like the man on the white horse with a sash of blood, hades follows you. The fact that you were happy and it managed to get to paper showed it lasted. I hope this lasts for a long time. You deserve it.
Daughter: With this I don't know, but I feel as though I should mention it. You are not your father OR your mother. Whatever they say or do or don't say or don't do can only affect you so much. Don't let it get deeper. You are strong. You are strong. You are strong. I know you are.
Sister: We all have our things that make us different. In some you share with those you where born with. You may look at them, those siblings, and say they are better. Yes, they are at some but not at all. They are not better at what makes you you. And they never will be. Do not compare yourself. Do not fall in to the trap of self pity. You won't win. Ever. Whether it is demons or voices or illness, it will beat you down if you ask those questions. Why compare yourself to them when we love you for who you are?
Human: Within these billions we know you. Our sins cripple us but our life defines us. You are one in countless. You are part of something great and still individual. The human is no number. The human has a face, a name, a life, a love. You're not alone, as long as you remember to reach out.
Friend...: You know, I remember when you called me. When I cut myself off for my own reasons. Not just from you, from them all. I was surprised to hear your voice, but it was welcome. That meant a lot to me. It was the first time in a long while we had just talked alone together. I think that's what's missing. From my life in general. One-to-one time. All the times we've asked for the other to check out a rant or a poem. The times we've texted each other just to say 'hi' or to discuss. There have been shit times. Times of immaturity and idiocy and foolishness and shortsightedness. But will we let those times rule our relationship? Will we let death win rather than live life? Will we let the bad times over rule the good? How does that portray us if we do? Do we believe in life or death? The good or the bad in a person? Friendship or animosity? I say all these things to you as an observer, a man, a musician, a poet, a son, a brother, a human. A friend?.. Maybe still.


Ronan.

Together

We don't know what tomorrow will hold, but we face it so bold.

We face it so bold.

We face it so bold.

Divided we stand. Together we fight. Alone we learn to die in silence.

We exhale together and the first steps are taken in a forward wave.

The touch I didn't know I craved. Love, the word I wouldn't say.
A different path I knew was paved. We walk hand in hand.

Even in plain cloths you are amazing.

All those photographs can't do you justice.

I don't deserve what I am getting.

But I won't argue with you.

We don't know what tomorrow will hold, but we face it so bold.

We face it so bold.

We face it so bold.