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I'm out of words, I guess. I don't know what else to say about anything, most of all the whole situation. And her, and him, and me. Okay, all of it. I just don't know what to say anymore, full stop. Guess I'll have to go back to quoting people until my head decides to shed more weight.
What we see before us is just one tiny part of the world. We get into the habit of thinking, this is the world, but that's not true at all. The real world is a much darker and deeper place than this, and much of it is occupied by jellyfish and things. We just happen to forget all that. Don't you agree? Two thirds of the earth's surface is ocean, and all we can see of it with the naked eye is the surface: the skin. We hardly know anything about what's beneath the skin.
-Haruki Murakami
i feel a verb inside of me.
i am so full of these words that don't tell her a fucking thing.
truant
pain killers, he called them. something to punish in a novel way. something to warm the tide that crashed over his body, ceaseless and disturbing in the way it carried him further. he drowned in it, years ago, and he hoped to drown in it again. to forget and forgive, to lie and tell truth, to find a way home from the airy casket of the life he'd found on land. he hoped, he supposed, he dreamed and even lingered for one final magnolia breath that would call to him in the absence. it came, but it was fleeting and overdue, and he fell into the surge without a backwards glimpse of those linked as a chain on sand to see him free.
nadir
he sat alone, huddled and bobbing in the mindless empty between her comings and goings. the night was cavernous, sifting subtly through shades of regret at the pace of a low tide. form came slowly and yet surely, carried against the weight of decades that he could do nothing to change. he asked where his path would at last raise ungainly head, and his answer was the broad, unhearing murmur of the ocean. the stars sank, rose, carried on with a purpose he could never hope to fathom, told him truths and lies, fed him fear from a grail of his own making, and delivered him ruthlessly to a beachhead built of tapered shale and nascent hope. so
So. I have a tattoo now.
It's a Fibonacci spiral. More to come as money's available.
© 2014 - 2024 tospiteyourface
Comments2
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I like jellyfish and Haruki Murakami(just thought I'd lighten the mood.)