2005-01-29
It Would Be Better If It Would Simply Strip And Destroy Me...
There it is. The middle of my mess. The center of my chaotic world of chemistry, conversions, calculators, English essays, loud music, sugary tart juice, Emily Dickinson poetry, Jane Eyre, and sonnets. A world where goodbye is a feared word, for it is so cold and final, even when used among friends as a parting until the next day. A world where I pace frantically, ripping my hair and dashing across the floor. A world of pulsing, constraining, rhythms. A world quickly falling into the pattern of routine and fencing me into it.
A world I wish to break free from already. Not to return to the old, but to break free from everything.
I wish to tumble away to a dark, silent heaven where I will be sundered from all humanity. I will scream there. I will scream as loud and long as I wish and not a single soul will hear me. I will scream until I have thrown off the rhythm, until I have broken the pattern. And then I will throw my arms out and fall to a floor, if there be any. And I will sleep. I will sleep all of my exhaustions away.
When I arise I will depart from this glorious void like stillness. With the wind at my back as I enter the atmosphere I will fly, and I will move from place to place. Never stopping in one place. Never keeping to a routine. Always shifting, always moving, always changing. Tossing about all four corners of the globe until I am finally taken from it.
And far away from all of those pulsating monotonies�