I woke to the sound of heavy rain. Fragments of a dream in my head. An ex-lover, the cheating one. She’d been wearing a dress whilst walking through the snow. The sight of her had made me happy. Yet when I woke, I could only feel cold and indifferent. It’s strange to think that I could’ve been raising a child with her. But children and marriage are of no concern to me now. Who wants to bind themselves to another, some other who will toss you aside without so much as a second glance. Regurgitated lovers, so bland and faded like wallpaper. All those dreadful faces, forever changing and always the same. Nature has failed me, yet it’s also saved me. The rain continues to pour, and I don’t wanna do anything. Cocooned in my room, the warmth of several blankets keeps me safe from harm. Autumn into winter. A gust of wind that blows an umbrella out of an old ladies hand. Cats darting for refuge under cars, whilst birds seek shelter in the lonely trees. As for me, I’m ill and I’m tired. No energy, just an endless state of distortion. Warped like those fragments of dreams as they fall between the floorboards, never to be seen again.
There’s romance to be found in solitude. The dark nights bring us closer together. They connect beating hearts in ways the season of summer could never even come close to. Those who fear silence fear the truth. They try to run, but in the end they’ll never be able to escape. It’ll find them out, and when it does, they’ll beg for salvation. But salvation will never come. Those who erase themselves, who wish themselves away in the arms of another. Damned are they, who can’t accept themselves for who they really are. Between the sun and the moon, I’m a loner who finds home in the confines of his mind. A nowhere man, seeking freedom from the chains of what it is to be a slave. A slave to sociability. To the constraints of modern living. Piss on your culture, and keep all your rewards for being good little machines. Servants to the tedium of modernity. Give me fire. Show me the wonders of something more. Feed me your secrets, for the unknown is where I long to be. The realms of fantasy. Of intimacy. Not just bodies, but two lost souls, swimming in seas of imagination and belief.
The day grows dark. The temperature drops with every passing hour. I muster up the energy to have a bath. Rivers of snot. Islands in a stream of man flu. Food is tasteless like the charm of a whore. Muscled men with nothing between their ears except for boredom. To think that I used to lift weights, oh the shame.. The soreness of my throat eases as I drink a can of Pepsi. Headaches and blurred vision. I’m too sensitive for illness. I was born with a skin too few. Such is life though. The despair of being bed ridden pales in comparison to the horrors of the outside world. Everywhere you look. Every newspaper you read. Atrocities, massacres, genocides. Rape, mutilation and torture. Someone sets a dog on fire. Someone else kills a child for being possessed by the devil. Beheadings for glamour. Religion like a nursery rhyme. Some guy’s skinned alive in Mexico, whilst a woman has her tits cut off in Japan. A curb stomp in London, a father kills his daughter in the town next over. Take me away from here. Come rescue me, and hold me in your arms until sleep takes us to a place no one else knows of. Escape. From my lips to yours, and back again.