brainhellhole overspill

i can’t recall if it was a smile or a smirk. all i knew was i needed to get out of the room as fast as i could, as stealthily as i could .

dub, dub, dub, i heard the music blasting from the invisible speakers. i saw people dancing, heads bobbing like buoys in the sea.

i saw him from afar, like a restless shaddow. bald, tall, thin and wearing dark glasses.

i swung the door open. briskly.

blood dripped. i lost another finger tonight.

cold permeated through my bones as i lie naked in bed. the window grill seemed freon tubes crisscrossing at my left, i can see the city illuminated sky just beyond it. i never close my windows, rain or shine.

without a hint of libido, my cock rested between my legs, comfortably nesting on my freshly shaven balls like a limp useless cock.

i tossed and i remembered, it’s been three weeks that my pillow has burst.

in that huge white room, i sat still for nine hours. it was so quiet, i can hear my intestine chewing my liver. i was starving - i can’t recall when i’ve eaten a proper meal. maybe yesterday, maybe a week ago, or maybe i’ve actually eaten, i just forgot i did.

the room was so wide, i can hardly decipher where the walls start taking its vertical cue from the immaculate whiteness of the cold marble floor.

i sat silently, breathing steadily.

"next."

one thousand and

five battles

and i lay my sword

to rust idling for

another throusand and five wars

it will not fight -

no guts, no blood, no life to pierce,

i am the old soldier, no qualms,

oblivious, no drive to fight -

i have my own story to tell,

my own scars to show,

even my sword,

now lying, rusting, idling,

dreaming of wars it has long

fought and lost.

"the rent is dirt cheap, i should get it. it’s in the slums, but im not that picky," i convinced hanna, she was beside me but her mind lulled by the gurgling sound from the cofee maker.

she said she’ll make three cups, one for each of us, i can have a second helping if i want to.

the pantry was so small, i feel swallowed - no, not by its size or claustrophobic bareness. i don’t have i clue, really.

i remember, she hates sugar and cream.

"up to you."

black blankets

the world

in darkness -

pitch black,

deep like

endless pit,

i fall,

swallowed

swallowed

swallowed

in deep pit

dark pitch

black

blanket of

darkness,

swallowed

swallowed

swallowed.

1) the human emotion is a crazy pendulum

2) we are nothing but mice running in an endless wheel - nothing much is changing, albeit our efforts.

3) you can’t teach an old dog to unlearn what it’s come to learn. it always knows that tipping the bin will find him a feast.

4) people have reasons and they are not required to explain.

5) no expectations.

"depression feeds on happiness," michael audibly thought matter of factly. a few feathers of his wings fluttered by the slight breeze breathing from the solitary window of his equally lonesome cell.

"this is why i don’t really aim for happiness as most creatures do."

a thin blade of the aging sun briefly peeked through just before heavy cloud shaddows darkened his nook - as has been.

"this is why i keep the show running, all masks, harboring no emotions on life at all. "

a feather falls.

detached.

i’ve stumbled on this in my friend’s blogsite. i remember asking another friend if he’s still got a copy of the complete audio collection of neruda’s work, he hasn’t responded since. tsk tsk.

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.