when do i know that i have had enough?
when will i ever learn to keep my mouth shut or my typing fingers still? i am always a bit like the cat that has to leave the tail hanging out, unsure, undecided, hesitating. sometimes i really wish i was not this way, and other times i just wish i would get to know myself in a rush, but i am slow, even in getting to know myself. no, you do not have a chance, you never did. this is all about intellectual intercourse and sexual discourse. no, it is not the other way around. when i first realized that i could one day come to this point, i thought that i would not be able to bear it, to be in the presence of that which is so unknown to me.
form, it is about form. it is about trial and error. today i am up a wall, a wall that i do not like, do not appreciate and i am ready to turn it all around, once more. one more time, not for old time sake, just for my own sake. once more, again, now.
when my sister died, i hated every bit of it. i hated that she was dead, i hated that i was alive, i hated that i was writing, i hated that she would never learn to. that feeling never left me, it is still here, it is perhaps the only thought that still makes the tears roll down my face: they are rolling. i want to be mad, and i want to scream, and what do i do? i know why people go to the Himalayas or other mountains, or i imagine that they seek that piece of repast from the torture of the mind, that illusion that we call peace eludes me every and each day. or does it?
there are days, when i say, fuck it all. all of it, the peace keepers, the paratroopers, the legal aids, the famished, the living, the dead. just fuck it all, suicide is pink and it is the ultimate choice. if i do not fear death, can i fear anything or anybody? mace in my eyes, a kick here or there, a lesion, blood, pain... it is all bearable, until it becomes unbearable, and then? then there is no heaven, there is no earth. there you are, newly dead, past moribund, the product of your parents procreation insanity, lifeless. no more guilt, no more pain. they live, you die, there is no guilt, there is no pain. there was not even a big bang either.
one day i sat on a hill overlooking the atlantic, gomera it was, you do remember? you remember the blue of the sky, you remember the smell of the waves, the taste of the air. far on the horizon, the sky kissed the ocean, my ocean, and i kissed death. we made a pact: earth, wind and fire would be ours. you were so very preoccupied with all your machinations, how could you even have dreamt up that i had seen you. lies, all lies. once. just once, stop and experience. just once, stop. once.
nos mensonges, a nous, les mensonges du plaisir, de l'infini.
once more, i turn in desperation, that desperation that i have learned to hide, that desperation that does not know fear, that desperation that fights and kills. who are you being when you are there naked and bare? are you then really naked, or is your skin just exposed? who are you being when you ask me to tell you? who are you being when you tell me of little monsters and wonderful sights? who are you being when you think that i believe any of it? who are you being when you try to justify? once upon a time, you shall never know. for the truth is, that time is past and gone, freshly dead, like a whisper of a desire that was never born.
dare being poetic, do you? do you dare give form to the raw material of your intellect? do you dare using that mind of yours, that curse of mine? dare, just dare, once. once dare to trabble out of there, to ignore the feelings, to surrender to the pain inside your being. venture out from the ringing inside your cranium, dare, just dare going past it, once, twice. dare and die! twice.
not once, not once upon a time, twice.
i am there, where i dreaded to be for ignorance of never having been here, i arrived, and i had not believed i had started the journey. how could it be? how could you leave me alone on this journey? it was your journey, you swore it to me. you swore alliance, allegiance, and eternal misery, but swear you did. or were you just cursing my very existence? i believed in that dream that i thought we could carve out of the jails of mental leprosy. you, me and him. twice, once, now. i am here, the sun is setting, the sky, the ocean, the blue: once.
tears, fire, earth, and the taste of the waves. remember freedom? remember the freedom of waking up and not knowing anything, no time, no place, nothing, no language, no words, no remembrances. no memory of the memories, no existence of the existences, once... just once, freshly arrived, terribly accidented, dismembered, disembodied.
when do i know?
