The anomaly
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| Date | Subscriber Growth | Mentions | Channels | |
| 02 August | 0 | |||
| 01 August | 0 |
Channel Posts
Soft Requiem
I wish to exist between now and then,
Outside of time,
When it's neither today nor tomorrow,
Where my heart beats in straight lines.
I wish to be suspended between life and death,
Mingling but uncommitted,
To be the silent veil and crimson divide,
Where my presence or absence is but an illusion.
I wish to be swallowed by space but not part of it,
Known but unmet,
To breathe in vacuum,
To rest peacefully in the arms of fire and flame.
See, life feels like a static race,
Victory is but a second lapā
And if lucky, another more.
I've tired my limbs and rusted my soul,
Defeated by my existence, this nurtured infection rules me whole.
This body I thought was my home became my confinement.
My tongue filters my thoughts,
My hands clap for stolen speeches,
My legs follow the path of false prophets,
See, I do not wish to leave this earth, but to live requires it,
And I have chosen to live.
~M
@fortheeccentric
| 2 | All the Grays
My dear, fire rages in my stomach,
But you will see the smoke long before any noise is uttered,
I only scream in silence,
In my exile and in your absence,
You wouldn't love me otherwise.
Do you remember those nights?
Those nights we were drunk on each other's company?
Fully clothed, yet utterly exposed in quiet understanding?
You told me then how you thought I was beautiful.
Those were the best of our memories so promise to keep them close,
For the coming nights wonāt be so kind...the coming nights wonāt be so warm.
Do you promise?
January 12th, 2025āthe date lives forever in my memory.
I still recall the way you looked at me,
Unwavering,
You told me you just noticed the brown in my eyes,
And, of course, I smiled.
And then I wondered what else you might have noticedā
The cuts on my arms I nurse beneath long sleeves?
Or the "Help me's" I swallow when I drink my tea?
Or the way I playfully dodge questions about my history?
...Or the way I stare at you when you're not looking,
Utterly mesmerized by your existence,
I drink in the sight of you, unnoticed, until you turn my wayā
Then, as if burned, I avert my gaze,
My neck turning red by the minute,
And I whisper to myself, "I hope he didnāt notice..."
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 298 |
| 3 | OASIS
I long to escape into the night,
To take refuge in the dark that has always kept my secrets,
I never fail to miss it,
One day, I shall leave and never return.
I would like to rewrite myself into a dream,
Into a song,
To reside between the highs and lows of a slow melody,
A fleeting memory,
A thing of ephemeral existence and a sweet aftertaste.
I would like to change my name,
To vanish into some place unknown,
To wash away my anguish and call it my home,
To live among strangers,
To make of those strangers empty canvases I can paint myself onā
My better self.
I wish to dissolve into the stars,
To drift into the stillness of space,
Where the absence of noise silences my thoughts,
So I might have time to decide my fate,
For all I have ever sought is peace,
I will go where I can find it.
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 3 692 |
| 4 | "Why do you look at me so judgingly?",
She whispered to her reflection.
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 463 |
| 5 | Glory and Honor
where dead bodies decorate a barren land,
Two men in silver are left to fight,
They were only told how but never told why,
They do not ask why.
Swords nourished by the blood and screams of their enemies or...long lost brothers,
But they were not trained to wonder,
They do not wonder.
The two men look for ways to snatch one's soul from the other,
One has a pregnant wife at home and the other has two daughters,
But in war, all one owns is a heavy armour,
Or at least thats what they are told,
They do not question what they are told.
The fire of speeches burns hot in their gaze,
"For my king!" one roars, "For his majesty!" the other,
A battle for glory, a fight for honor,
But their rulers remain blind to their name,
Mere numbers tallied at a tableās debate,
A truth concealed by the hands of fate,
A truth that would come a soul too late.
Oh, what pride, what hollow might,
Two men fight under false divine right,
Swords are raised, arms are thrashed,
One's heart is pierced, one's neck is slashed,
And victory falls on no one's hand.
Now the two men lie still and cold,
And the barren land grows, as it's foretold,
Feeding its soil with the blood it spills,
Preparing once more to drink its fill.
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 544 |
| 6 | A glorious snowman in the making just a few days before summer,
That is, I feel, the gist of life,
That we must be and build things of beauty to then dissolve into a puddle of nothingness.
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 349 |
| 7 | WORDS
A boy marches into adulthood,
Blind and unprepared, but dressed in his father's speech,
He is a man now,
He reflects on all the advice he received when he was young enough to ask for it,
1. They told him to fill his pockets the best he could,
He did as they told him,
It was all heavier than he expected,
Not only on his hand but on his spirit,
He told them his pockets gave him only the means to survive, but no meaning for it,
2. They told him he wouldn't be lonely if he never slept alone,
He did as they told him,
But still his bed was just as cold as it was before,
He found that no number of bodies could ever warm it,
He told them he could not give strangers parts of him and expect to be whole.
3. They told him lone wolves get the furthest in life,
He became what they told him,
He told them they were right,
He reached the peak and found no other souls in sight,
He thought, by now, he'd be the man that parents told their children about,
But he was still a kid,
Still afraid of death, that looked no less scary from his tower of riches,
But he realized it was all too late to live any different,
Now alone, empty, tortured, and enviable,
This gray-haired boy sits across from wide-eyed youths starving for his words of wisdom,
1. He tells them...
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 342 |
| 8 | Father, they tell me you are everywhere,
Why is it that I can not find you?
These years brought with them an invisible darkness that consumes my soul,
I was hoping you could fix me,
Father, do you not recognize me?
My voice is not as sweet as it used to be, is it?
I admit it has turned rough from the cold nights I spent in all the wrong places,
They were not my home,
I was hoping you'd be the home I needed,
Father, do you hear me?
There is no peace when I sink my pillow and no peace when I rise from it,
The sun and moon circle my eyes while I remain impartial to them,
I fear my appetite to live is not one I can relay on,
But father, I would like to live,
I was hoping you'd sustain me,
Father, I am lost,
And I was hoping if I found you then perhaps I could find me.
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 470 |
| 9 | AFTER TOMORROW
How dare they, the hours?
To grow into years that passed without notice,
How do I make up for the wasted time I didn't know was wasted?
See, I counted my days, but nothing in my days counted,
Oh, to be young and impatient,
For a while, I had dared for tomorrow to arrive,
But now that it is here I wish that I hadn't,
It crafts my regrets while it mocks my decisions,
"What now?", It laughs,
"Was it all that you expected?
Are you ready to face the reality of your fading existence?
Because you are, indeed, fading,
Have you realized that you're not merely part of the world but also made of it?
That you will age and rot like all things without exception?
Now do you understand?
Now do you feel it?
Your youth that's liquid gold quickly dripping down your fingers?
You've asked for tomorrow and here I am summoned,
So foolish child, answer me this question,
Are you ready for what comes after?"
~M~ | 953 |
| 10 | THOUGHTS OF A YOUNG MAN
Are we all doomed to get a taste of our parents curse?
To become part of the ripple effect and be bruised by it?
Father, do I have no choice but to become a victim of the world and the aggressor of my own home?
Mother, am I destined to carry the weight of a thousand cries after having cried a thousand times?
I ask you both...Who might I be if not your son?
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 3 861 |
| 11 | It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but the young know they are wretched for they are full of the truthless ideal which have been instilled into them, and each time they come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded. It looks as if they were victims of a conspiracy; for the books they read, ideal by the necessity of selection, and the conversation of their elders, who look back upon the past through a rosy haze of forgetfulness, prepare them for an unreal life. They must discover for themselves that all they have read and all they have been told are lies, lies, lies; and each discovery is another nail driven into the body on the cross of life.
~W. Somerset Maugham~
@fortheeccentric | 522 |
| 12 | ONLY A SOUL
We have promised only our souls to each other,
It souldn't be surprising that I wake up from your nightmares and you daydream of my future,
That you can hear my tears fall and I can feel your heart breaking,
But the outsiders, they look at us in awe and I wonder, "Don't they know?"
"Don't they know that we're tied by the burdens we've exchanged?"
I have built myself into your confessional, and you into mine,
You take my cries and drown them in all the novel ways you find to love me,
And so we have made sadness the neighbor we pretend we can't hear the door knock's of,
You turn 9, 17, 23, 29 and all the ages in-between in days we spend together,
And when the night ends you tell me you often feel like a finely tailored suit,
A Costume made long ago when the world asked of you a man when you were just a boy,
And I tell you that here, in our home, we need no fancy attires,
Some days when the cold comes to visit as it does unfailingly,
I search between the gaps of your words for a sound that triggers a familiar pain,
For a reason to wage war with my weapon pointed at both of us,
For a reason to doubt this too-good thing we've built,
You look at me with recognition,
And you tell me that here, in our home, we don't look for things that don't exist,
We have promised only our souls to each other,
Only our souls....and nothing more.
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 5 207 |
| 13 | "Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living."
~Jonathan Safran Foer~
@fortheeccentric | 591 |
| 14 | What does it mean to live a good life? What does it mean to live a meaningful one? Does the former imply the later or the later the former? Is there a definition for either and steps on how to get there? Or are these terms arbitrary? Open to the messy playground that is the human mind? Can oneās life be judged through the lens of another and would such judgment hold any weight? Or is it all subjective? Is it all āWhatās good or meaningful to me might or might not be to you and it matters not either wayā. I guess all this is to ask;
How do we measure the outcome of our existence?
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 6 008 |
| 15 | Is it possible to become your dream?
To somehow catch that decieving ever-distant cloak and wear it?
To finally become the enemy of your weaknesses?
To embody years of hopes and wishes?
To be the person unrecognizably enviable by your present self?
Oh, could we ever?
And will we then be enough?
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 5 420 |
| 16 | Most of us are merely waiting for death; and some of us are hoping it arrives early.
~M~
@fortheeccentic | 911 |
| 17 | https://t.me/magic_in_book | 937 |
| 18 | You didn't see it today,
While you and I were walking close but untouching,
Our shadows formed under the sun that shined for their service,
They touched and intertwined unhindered by the pull of doubt and pride,
They embraced and kissed till the clouds dismissed them,
Somehow we had made ghosts whose love rose jealousy in my soul,
And so I wondered, my dear, if we would ever live up to them.
~M~
@fottheeccentric | 5 149 |
| 19 | Tonight the memories I have kept in the catacombs of my brain came to life,
Starved for my sorrows they clung to my eyes and fed on my tears,
My guilt...my shame, won't you ever release me?
Won't I ever find peace?
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 4 816 |
| 20 | Darkness sends its weakest soldiers, yet I sill fall,
It seems this pseudo-armor of mine only fools the mortals,
All that is not good in me comes to life in the dangerously comforting night,
My dear, you do not know me,
I do not know myself,
Only it does.
~M~
@fortheeccentric | 4 188 |
