Bandits with planes and Moors, bandits with finger-rings and duchesses, bandits with black friars spattering blessings came through the sky to kill children and the blood of children ran through the streets without fuss, like children's blood. Jackals that the jackals would despise, stones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out, vipers that the vipers would abominate!   Neruda

Friday, February 22, 2013

Alien universe

I want to die.

There, I said it.

Now you can tell me all the reasons I should want to live. Count out my blessings, my purposes, my desires, my aims.

Prove you do not have an answer for me by showing you do not understand the question.

I have always wanted not to exist, to twist what I have into a ball and kick it into infinity.

I have never wanted anything. If I have never wanted anything, I do not ever have to be disappointed, to be tormented through sleepless nights and the empty grind of meaningless days by what I cannot have.

Tell me what I have. Tell me how lucky I am to have it. No one understands except those lonely in the depths of their being that what you cannot have has infinite weight in any scales you choose against what you do.

Tell me that I should not mind that the world is not right, that you are evil and ugly and I should not mind it. I mind it.

I mind being on an alien world, in a universe that has no rules, no order, no justice. I mind living and dying. I mind the glimpse of eternity, the shuttered nothingness of my room on a warm evening, the moment before I met you.

***

I want to live.

1 Comments:

At 12:44 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good start, poor ending!

 

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