I stared too deep into the void.

https://www.ezmiuski.com/

Photography: MOLLY FELTON - WYATT IRMEN - ANNIE OAKLAND - JACK PALACIOS

Photo Editing: ANNIE OAKLAND - JACK PALACIOS

Videography: ABDALLAH ABDELHAMID - JOE BARNETT - MOLLY FELTON - JOHN FIORENTINO - OMER LAVAL - JACK PALACIOS

Mixing Engineer - JACK PALACIOS

Mastering Engineer - OMER LAVAL

I Lost My Mind

I Fell Into The Mirror

I Disappeared In Smoke

I don’t know where to go.

Inside me longs something I have never seen.

I have no hope in fulfilling it.

Where can I run?

Life repeats its lesson: 

You must find a way to make the most of it.

Oh, and if you can't well, fuck, sorry man, you only exist as a functioning conscience due to the very fact that you're alive and existing so, mm, rough luck, kiddo.

I don't want to die. 

I just don't want everything moving so fast and slow. 

I don't want everything to mean so much and so little. 

I just want to be here.

WRITTEN IN THE AUTUMN OF 2019

All Over The Carpet

I don’t get it.

I’m capable of feeling all the emotions in the world and still I fill myself with hate.

I hate you.

You think emotions drive us apart from reason.

You have memories I want and I have nothing to offer you.

He confided in you that he tried to end it and all you did was call him stupid.

He came to you and you cut him down.

Forever will your mouth be stained by the blood it almost spilled.

I hope you never look back on your memories.

WRITTEN IN THE SUMMER OF 2019

Now Is Forever

I don't know how I'm supposed to respect my mental health.

It's exhausting to stay here. I stay here regardless.

I don't know how to respect that.

It's exhausting for everyone.

Some of you work immensely to stay here.

How am I supposed to respect clinging on?

I know how to lend a hand. I can tether myself down to keep someone in the clouds.

But I don’t know how to get myself up there.

And I don't understand why no one will help me find out.

"You’re just gonna’ have to find more people like me."

You changed the moment I stayed downstairs. I gave up. I was too afraid of grinding down. My emotions impeded on collaboration and that angered you.

I still think about it. A disappointment. A liability to your honor. Something weak-willed and frail. 

At that moment, I became too much for you. 

I guess what I'm saying is I understand. 

You said you almost pulled me aside that afternoon to say I was being rude. 

Something in you decided that afternoon to stop telling me what you thought.

I get it. You're not the first.

I just don't know what I'm supposed to do.

People leave when I’m myself.

And they don’t come back once I’m someone else.

WRITTEN IN THE SUMMER OF 2019 & SPRING OF 2020

As Metal Cuts Flesh

Some of you feel so antagonizing.

“I don't see any other way to do it."

There are airs we don’t have to put on here.

I’m tired of equating aggressive, demanding stoicism to a professional personality.

We don't need to start acting like fucking knobs just because we call our workplace a set.

I'm not going to be professional if it means acting like I matter more than someone else.

But I’m the one struggling to create purpose.

"I don't see any other way of doing it."

And that terrifies me.

Once I was someone else. Now I’m someone else.

And who I am now is afraid of looking like who I once was.

If I was drowning, I don’t think you’d pull me out. 

I think you’d stand there believing I would pull myself out.

What happened?

WRITTEN IN THE SUMMER OF 2020

In The Dead Of Night

It’s September 21st. On the drive back home, I feel myself give up.

Now, it’s several minutes into the 29th.

My hope is fleeting. I am numb. Outside passes inside through me.

I am turning into cement.

Somehow, I am supposed to slow down and keep up.

Nothing is fair nor just. Those are human projections. 

We have come to identify some feeling in us that says, "This is not supposed to be as such."

That feeling seems to be a reaction towards our own reality.

How can it manifest so immensely in the walls of my chest?

Everything, more and more to me, is seeming to be a figment of internal imagination, of creativity and construction.

My body does not want me to see the truth with my own eyes; it instead wants me to build an effigy towards the truths of my mind.

This has got me fucked up.

WRITTEN IN THE AUTUMN OF 2019

Just To Feel Alive

I've spent years learning how to have a good time. Now the world is ending.

I get it. We have the literal survival of our planet on the line.

But must we do the whole song and dance too?

It feels like a betrayal of self.

I truly enjoy — actually, I don't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

At some point, I am someone. At the next point, I am someone else.

There are no points in between.

I don't understand how to get from one point to the next.

When I ask for help, you look dumbfounded at me.

Who taught you this? Why won't anyone share their thoughts?

For the past six fucking months, I feel like I’ve been eating nothing but humble pie.

You act like I haven’t.

But you talk like I deserve it.

WRITTEN IN THE SUMMER OF 2020

https://youtu.be/8EKlxa5fBxk

This Is Never Coming Back

I'm humiliated.

My way of living doesn't work. It's not sustainable, productive, or inspiring.

I can scream. I can cry. I can argue.

I am currently going down with the ship.

You can’t have dreams when you think wanting is wrong.

You can’t create when you tell yourself it's good just to consume.

You can’t be when you tell yourself you’re only still becoming.

Stop. No more.

~

I was first. I fought my insecurity first.

Doesn't matter. Never matters who's first.

After me came you in step, yet your stride since hasn’t faltered. I’m sinking into the mud alone. How can you reject my plea for guidance?

I’ve done this first and that has rewarded me humility.

Humility for pushing our visions.

Humility for chasing our dreams.

I wanted to show something. I did it. I wanted all of us to do it. Together.

I am dragging myself around now. I am failing to find guidance. I am struggling to want.

 How can I dream again?

I'm alone. I'm lost. I'm scared. 

Yes. I know what is next.

Everyone knows.

I get up or I stay down.

No one will guide my breath.

No one will walk alongside me.

But once I arrive, I will be met with love.

And, if I wish to learn from this humility, I will embrace it.

No one will ever ask to hear my thoughts on the matter otherwise.

WRITTEN IN THE SUMMER OF 2020

This Was All I Had Left

I create to feel like I matter. Friends help along the way. There is a part of you here.

https://www.ezmiuski.com/

Ezmiuski

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