domingo, 9 de março de 2008

Grotesque Scribble

I'm a single shadow, just like outside going through the window. The snow falls down, it melts and I look up.
The sky is gray and so is life. Black at times... sad, stupid.
I lay my head down on my pillow, and my spirit wanders around, screaming scared while I sleep.
I'm nothing but a desperate small child looking for shelter.
I look at myself, my eyes do not recognize me. I'm rejected. What can I do?
My body sinks in cold water and I go deep, facing with eyes wide open my death. I shiver.
My fingers wrap around my hands and suddenly I pray, just like I used to do everyday... as a life retriever. I'm the ugly, the horrible, the creepy, the nightmare, the void.
I'm going down... going under, trying to hide away, far away. I'm not myself and I'm little by little alone. And I'm not the same one.
What is life if not emptiness, sadness and sorrow? Where is all of it... all the beauty?
There's no way out, no matter what I think about.
I'm feeling numb... feeling sick, feeling tired. Just as I had really died.

extracted and adapted from: early editions of 'grotesque journal'

" whatever!! whatever it is... it's still whatever,  like whatever that I don't know how to explain."

f a l l i n g  b o y ... /dust\cake\boy/... Ur!3L

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