as it was in the beginning, is now and forever shall be (world without end, amen.)
My house is darker than I have ever known darkness could be. It feels like a furnace inside.
Everywhere smells like death, and there is a burning thing in the red sky where the moon should be; it disappears in increments so that it seems as if some doomed ship is crashing forever, never to reach the ground- forever caught in the purgatory between the zenith and the nadir.
Power lines and trees everywhere are down, and here at my aunt's apartment partially ripped out trees lean as though too tired to pull themselves up or even to let go and fall.
My throat hurts, and inside I am melting slivers of something inhuman; there is only a deep, voiceless, numbing pain.
I am heartbroken.
I am homesick.
And I want to die.
My house smells like death warmed over; the city is a horror movie set. One can almost hear the corpses rising, walking through the battered streets near my house, between the broken trees, beneath the severed power lines.
I am heartbroken.
I am homesick.
and I want to die.
They expect me to go to college tomorrow, to go through the paces of school as though I give a shit anymore about a master's in fine arts, about sitting in classes I clearly don't belong in with people who clearly don't want to be around me, who stare at me when I speak and whisper when I am mute? Why should I care anymore about graduating or even finishing a week of school? What the fuck is the point? At this moment I care for absolutely fucking nothing. In one week I lost every fucking thing I ever gave my entire heart to care for. I do not give a living shit about school. I do not care about finishing college. I do not care. I want to find every syringe within a 100-mile radius of here and perform a silent fatal acupuncture- inject myself quickly, quietly from every pulse point with the very substance of life.
The irony of a death by such means is not lost on me, and I embrace it with the utter numbness which seems to have pervaded my consciousness.
Good God, do I sound fucking emo.
God. What a funny thing, how I use that word so often. Good god. Oh my god. Oh god. Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, Jesus Christ in a neon blue miniskirt, Christ on a pogo stick, Christ Christ Christ. I hate religion.
I would walk into the lake three feet from this apartment door if I weren't afraid of how dark it is.
Everywhere smells like death, and there is a burning thing in the red sky where the moon should be; it disappears in increments so that it seems as if some doomed ship is crashing forever, never to reach the ground- forever caught in the purgatory between the zenith and the nadir.
Power lines and trees everywhere are down, and here at my aunt's apartment partially ripped out trees lean as though too tired to pull themselves up or even to let go and fall.
My throat hurts, and inside I am melting slivers of something inhuman; there is only a deep, voiceless, numbing pain.
I am heartbroken.
I am homesick.
And I want to die.
My house smells like death warmed over; the city is a horror movie set. One can almost hear the corpses rising, walking through the battered streets near my house, between the broken trees, beneath the severed power lines.
I am heartbroken.
I am homesick.
and I want to die.
They expect me to go to college tomorrow, to go through the paces of school as though I give a shit anymore about a master's in fine arts, about sitting in classes I clearly don't belong in with people who clearly don't want to be around me, who stare at me when I speak and whisper when I am mute? Why should I care anymore about graduating or even finishing a week of school? What the fuck is the point? At this moment I care for absolutely fucking nothing. In one week I lost every fucking thing I ever gave my entire heart to care for. I do not give a living shit about school. I do not care about finishing college. I do not care. I want to find every syringe within a 100-mile radius of here and perform a silent fatal acupuncture- inject myself quickly, quietly from every pulse point with the very substance of life.
The irony of a death by such means is not lost on me, and I embrace it with the utter numbness which seems to have pervaded my consciousness.
Good God, do I sound fucking emo.
God. What a funny thing, how I use that word so often. Good god. Oh my god. Oh god. Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, Jesus Christ in a neon blue miniskirt, Christ on a pogo stick, Christ Christ Christ. I hate religion.
I would walk into the lake three feet from this apartment door if I weren't afraid of how dark it is.