October 4, 2006

• Alone

  Hopeless mindless indulgent selfishness. Seeking peace and forgiveness for negligence and past wrongdoings, for I have sinned. Searching for what I lost, haven’t found anything save for the merciless rebound of my iron heart on the soulless  and empty cage of myself. Hunger consumes  me as all-encompassing as amnesia in late stages of potential squirrelicide. Body asking me why I’m not eating, and my empty pockets reply with hollow sobriety. The rapid deterioration of my morals stands idly by, watching me eat myself alive in a Matrix of my own devising, a philosophical experiment of some sick and twisted evil scientiest, yet in my own enlightened despair I realize I was that depraved scientist. Tybalt longing for Juliet impeding thoughts of incest, dragons within me fighting for love and life and God knows what else was long gone within me, fighting for a cause that no longer exists, searching for a happiness that cannot be attained, the journey mocking me with a path of nails to remind me of the pain I’ve wrought upon others. Forgiveness is elusive as immortality, and seems just as close when hunger introduces me to its co-worker, Mr. Reaper. Eyelids heavy as battleships, fighting to keep back the night of my subconscious and guilty conscience, hoping one day the impossible will come and cure my cancer, and uplift me from this self-devised prison. Never wanting to admit to the startling and painful realization that I can be my only salvation and yet I’m suddenly finding myself staring at a plate full of pancakes, growing cold with my moldy oatmeal, trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me and why I can’t restore warmth to my life. The home I left behind is locked within my memories, never to be touched again by hallowed hands, nor the glimpse of sore eyes, yearning to breathe free. The constitution of my mind is sueing my body for libel, for what I’ve eaten thus far has defamed everything I’ve accomplished, just like that oatmeal I force myself to eat before forcing myself to go to a class I’m late for anyway, knowing that no matter how hard I try… Darkness is everywhere, inside me and deathly silent it deafens my heart. Can I ever know true love? Time will tell, as surely God will not allow me to walk the primrose path to hell for much longer… was it God or was it my father? Which father – biological or religious? Time has  betrayed me, I thought, only when the warm milk  at the breakfast table reminds me that my lips are still dry, and that I’ve betrayed every memory I possess within a mental album reminiscent of that of Our Town, and I’m the cashier, who can’t take it anymore and shoots everyone in the grocery store. Can you forgive me?
  
  

  • 2:17 am
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