Springbonjo

August 16, 2006

Imagine

Filed under: Uncatergorised

Returning to an isolated sub urban empty apartment. You shiver, because it is always cold. Cold from lack of feelings. You shudder, like how someone disgusts you. How you irate me. How you are the bane of me. The very bane of my soul, not really actually, for you are not even half of me, maybe not even my pubic hair, for you are nothing but a unoworthy bacteria. When did an outsider was allowed to barge in, to trespass under your very nose?

Oh the audacity! Now she’s turning her back on you, talk about dog biting the hand that feeds it. How apt, perhaps. And what is this?

Now the suburbans have shifted, morphed into a deserted island. You and yourself are alone. You dream of a thousand scenarios, think of a million possibilties, tear your hair out. Take a driftwood and cut your hands, bleed to make sure you still feel, that you still know you are alive. You could gorge on mussels, but even now, you cannot consume flesh, because your very subconscience repels meat. You are a vegetarian, with no principles. You don’t see why you shouldn’t eat meat, but see the pesky details of not having the ease of having food so easily.

Meat, meat- I want to bloody murder you. Take a coconut husk and violenty grab your hair, to hammer your skull, skin you like the husk, until I have a masterpiece; bizarre, morbid and twisted nonetheless; a goggle-eyed dead head stares at me from an intricately carved coconut husk, the limbs are arranged pleasingly to a skillfully slashed organ. How beautiful, that with some work, even the ugliest, could be, art.

Everyday you trudge around the island, you imagine the trees, the palm trees are your friends. They are pretty and shady, but you could run away and die in front of them and they wouldn’t move. You don’t know if they cannot, or don’t want to. Or perhaps you wasn’t miraculous enough for even trees do not uproot.

A rodent scampers by. You push a deranged hair out of your dirt streaked face, you will roast and eat its entrails raw later. For now, peace, or rather calm before the storm prevails.






















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