27 / Male / Florida (The place where everything bad goes), United States
Pansexual / In a Relationship
Mar 31, 2014
May 11, 2022
Current rating: 6.0/10 (1 votes cast)
You have rated InsomniZaeda
^^^^^Made by Layla's amazing girlfriend, Avalanche
All I can say is: I'm not anything special.
Zaeda, Zae, Zaebae, Zaebat, Insomni, Roo, Kittycat, Dickbagel, or anything else you feel like calling me.
Theoretically there are billions of parallel universes in which practically everything is possible but I guarantee there is not one in which I give a shit~
↣ Congratulations on being able to read my description. I'd give you a gold star, but I really don't give a shit. You can call me Zae or any variation of the name. I'm an egotistical narcissist with low self-esteem who hates what he has become. Orientation wise, I'm pansexual with an asexual mindset. If anything I say annoys, confuses or offends you in any way, then you're too soft and we should totally hook up. I've been here for quite a while, so don't feel the need to tell me how most of SoEmo has become cancer. I'm well aware. ↢
some times, i feel guilty. each time i let someone in, that i learn to trust, i end up pushing them away again. i guess i'm just afraid. i don't want to be hurt again...
and to a specific person, who i hope knows who they are, i apologize so much. please, please, please don't blame yourself for me being so unavailable. i'm trying extremely hard to not run away. you're special to me c:
Sitting alone under the night sky so black,
Nobody knows what he's holding back,
Pulling his sleeves past the black and blue,
Once these bruises fade they'll come back anew.
Looking up at the stars so high,
Sometimes he wishes he could melt into the sky,
Out of his eye drops a single tear,
As he realizes he has to face his worst fear.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words.
“There was a…a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup.” I said
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies.” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup.” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be alright?”
“That what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Some vague authority figure. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right.”
“All the religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strolled in the void. “Where are we going?” “Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part or yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.”
“You’ve been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for longer, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where do you come from?” You pondered.
“Oh sure!” I explained. “I come from somewhere. somewhere else. and there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there but you honestly won’t understand.”
“Oh.” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If i get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? Your asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question.” you persisted.
I looked in your eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No. just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect” “Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you, and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it.” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too.” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” you said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa.” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said. “It’s just…”
“An egg of sorts.” I answered. “Now its time for you to move on to your next life.”
And with that, I sent you on your way.
* InsomniZaeda joins Help and Advice
‹InsomniZaeda› growing up isn't very helpful, when it comes down to it. when i was very little, i loved staring at the night sky. it always fascinated me, the way the darker it got, the more stars would come out. they'd almost always be there, every time i woke up from a bad dream and ran tot he window, every time the sunshine wasn't enough, every time i needed reassurance that they hadn't gone away--
‹InsomniZaeda› odd, but before the age of eight i don't have a single memory of a cloudy night
‹InsomniZaeda› */eleven years later, i'm still just a guy, looking for comfort, for sleep, for respect. for you, for someone to jump with, our arms outstretched, fingertips reaching for. the heavens without the slightest idea what's out there. grasping for who-knows-what. our wishes have been enveloped by balls of fire light years away;
‹InsomniZaeda› and yet there's the feeling there is, there always will be, something more, something bigger, something we want but are so terrified to have. i live with the constant feeling of having something very very very important to say without the slightest idea what it is or who it's meant for.
‹InsomniZaeda› maybe that's why i started writing--in hopes that someday it'll finallycome out, and i'll finally know what a real epiphany feels like. *standing there, head tilted back, taking it all in, to an audience in deep space. really, the only difference now is for more rainy nights.
God Bless America
land of the enslaved, home of the bigoted
eternal forgiving earth littered with tear gas and rubber bullets
digging into skin, scarring the flesh and bones and anger of millions.
God Bless America
where our pigskins and white lines will forever be sacred
where counting by 7's is heavenly compared to the rape of a girl
where our players are our modern deities, worshiped on HD television screens
God Bless America
where the fault of a pale skin is anything but their own
mental illness is a spat out excuse, tainting those who do suffer
deranged, depressed, scared, lonely, all words of justice whose skin burns easier in the sun
but god bless those who are darker, who rot behind prison bars for a 2 second look at an officer
God Bless America
god bless out flag
red and white next to each other, but never quite mixing
with its strict rules and savaged past
someone must have dipped this flag into the blood of the screaming
the screaming, the screaming, the screaming
always present tense, the history has never died.
God Bless America
and the lies that live under its rich earth.
God Bless America
for whatever it's worth
god fucking bless it
with as much as my freedom of speech will allow me
God Bless America
may it sparkle red from sea to shining sea
with the lives of the innocent, on our highway pavements
illuminated, by red and blue lights
a siren, our new national anthem
God Fucking Bless America 11-24-14 Don't Forget. Don't Stay Silent. R.I.P Mike Brown
Feelings of Ice.
It all started in winter five years ago, in my small hometown of Port Jefferson. I didn't always live in Port Jefferson, but I've been living there for more years than I can remember. My parents, like wise, hadn't always cared about me, but they hadn't for more years than I can remember. Or I guess they did, but they never showed it. They were too preoccupied with their own lives. Of what I could remember though. My life has never been normal. I've always been a bit on the crazy side, and I've always had a hard family life.
At the time I was seventeen. I didn't have a car, lots of friends, or a very good reason to. I just didn't care. I did have one good friend, my best friend Marc, who I'd been friends with since I was eleven. He lived across the busy road from me, just a few minutes of a walk and he always had.
We used to walk aimlessly around his neighborhood talking about life, or polotics, or why the cat on the corner only had three legs. We talked about the band we were going to start, or the pranks we were going to pull for our senior year, or how we never saw the orange building on the corner of Marc's street called "Scott's Paint" ever sell any paint. When we couldn't explain something laying around there, we'd say "Scott's Paint sells that." Like, "Scott's Paint sells tree-legged cats", and so on.
The only thing that seperated us was that road. We would sometimes walk up and down it, especially in winter. Just making up jokes, or commenting on cars, or making fun of bikers. It was one of those nights everything happened.
We were walking on his side of the road when I decided to go home and finish a research paper I was doing. I aske dhim if he wanted to come over so I wasn't bored while I worked, and he said something like, "You know, Scott's Paint sells research papers."
When we got to the point where we could cross the road, we decided to race across through some typical boy shove-and-run thing. I was ahead of him, my shoes crunching on the ice, when a car hurtled down the road. It must have been going seventy, and it flew right by me skidding over the ice. I whipped around to yell something, but I stopped dead when I saw Marc lying on the road.
I don't remember much more of that night, or the weeks that followed. When I think back to it, it's a blur of me grabbing Marc and dragging him off the road. An image of his face frozen in surprise, the glare of the car's headlights fading in the distance. A police officer pulling me away from the corpse, my parentsnot knowing what to say. His parents acted like they were simply mourning when really they looked at me with contempt for living when their son died. And open casket funeral, no noise, questions, consoling strangers, and a dark rooms.
I opened my window and the chill winter air crept into the room. The icy grass of my lawn glistened in the moonlight and it made me shiver. I threw my legs over the window sill and dropped down onto the frozen grass with a crunch. The street was dimly lit, and the traffic on the big busy road was almost non-exsistent. I exhaled the warmth from my lungs and I could see my breath. I stopped for a second to imagine it was my soul floating away from me, and I sighed.
The first thing I did was walk to the graeyard. I walked through the cast-iron gates and out across the snow that blanketed the ground. It may have been the last snow of the season, but it was a good one. When I got to Marc's grave, I fell down in front of it weakly, my head rested in the ice. It was all around me, and so cold. I couldn't keep on living. I didn't have anyone left and I didn't want anyone.
But I couldn;t just die, Marc died and I lived. It could have been me just as easily. And now, I had to live enough for both of us. I had to go back home and keep living. Because if I didn't, I would die too. So, I kneeled in front of his garve and wiped the snow off of it and smiled for him. And I picked myself up from the ice,
and I did not die.
(Story I wrote in liek 8th graxe when my best friwnd died xD sorry for any misspellings and such, i didnt change anything.)
Bitches be like:
And I be like:
And they be like:
And I end up like:
So please. Don't call me cute or hot or sexy. Don't compliment me. Unless I'm comfortable around you. I don't care if you think I'm cute. I don't think I'm cute. So fuck off. Ignorant pricks.