this
January 18th 2008 10:38
Prologue:
I was lying on my bed last winter with the window wide open and I realised I was going to die. (It must have been something in the cold air that made my brain start functioning.) And I decided I didn't want to waste anymore time half-living.
This.
This is all.
No secret repetition of lines backstage.
No dawn dark road beneath your feet to prepare for the race.
No theoretical desk-sitting book-toting cram-sessions for the final exam.
Life is moving.
Forward.
(Which is now the past.) (Which is now the past.)
This.
This is all you ever have
before the recollections become recollections become
lost in the still air of a room
where people come to view your cadaver as part
of an exhibition of organs...
So here you are.
Faintly nasal breathing in the still winter night.
The distant traffic telling of your common humanity.
Wretched and raw and content.
With blood streaming from your arteries into your brain.
Feeling alive but tired,
Determined with reservation.
And suddenly
You stand
To stand in your beliefs and yell
About the gravity of the situation.
But the moment there it goes it's gone and now it's just you
in an empty hall
bowing for the faceless seats
And in an instant you know that this exsistence is too fleeting andtedious for you not to be
gut wrenchingly brave.
To unshackle your body from comparison.
To crack open your mind from meaningless gossip.
To unveil your soul and leave it near an electrical wire.
To rip your heart from your ribcage so that it may be enlarged and you may live.
To scream and cry with regret at the people you have hurt.
To beat the ground in anger as a child's heart is contorted beyond recognition.
To look outwards and love those whom you are afraid of.
To look inward and accept the beauty within yourself.
To walk on the streets and remove the fingers you have so tightly clamped around your being and let the mess of your spirit shine through
as a testimony of one who has the courage and fragility to stumble forward
and live.
I was lying on my bed last winter with the window wide open and I realised I was going to die. (It must have been something in the cold air that made my brain start functioning.) And I decided I didn't want to waste anymore time half-living.
This.
This is all.
No secret repetition of lines backstage.
No dawn dark road beneath your feet to prepare for the race.
No theoretical desk-sitting book-toting cram-sessions for the final exam.
Life is moving.
Forward.
(Which is now the past.) (Which is now the past.)
This.
This is all you ever have
before the recollections become recollections become
lost in the still air of a room
where people come to view your cadaver as part
of an exhibition of organs...
So here you are.
Faintly nasal breathing in the still winter night.
The distant traffic telling of your common humanity.
Wretched and raw and content.
With blood streaming from your arteries into your brain.
Feeling alive but tired,
Determined with reservation.
And suddenly
You stand
To stand in your beliefs and yell
About the gravity of the situation.
But the moment there it goes it's gone and now it's just you
in an empty hall
bowing for the faceless seats
And in an instant you know that this exsistence is too fleeting andtedious for you not to be
gut wrenchingly brave.
To unshackle your body from comparison.
To crack open your mind from meaningless gossip.
To unveil your soul and leave it near an electrical wire.
To rip your heart from your ribcage so that it may be enlarged and you may live.
To scream and cry with regret at the people you have hurt.
To beat the ground in anger as a child's heart is contorted beyond recognition.
To look outwards and love those whom you are afraid of.
To look inward and accept the beauty within yourself.
To walk on the streets and remove the fingers you have so tightly clamped around your being and let the mess of your spirit shine through
as a testimony of one who has the courage and fragility to stumble forward
and live.
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