Jaded Glasses.

The different parts of me.

 “We have a sick desperation to our laugh, kid. That’s something that needs to change, how about we take ourselves down town, and have a few drinks? Hey, hey! I got an interesting did-you-know for you. Did you know that it doesn’t take much effort to break someone’s wrist? Would you like to see? If we take ourselves to town, I could give you a demonstration.”                                                    

 “Don’t listen to that side of us, bambino. It’s okay, don’t I always tell you it will be okay? I am always right, no? Trust us. Ignore that part of us, you know she’s cruel. We know she’s cruel – we don’t need her And we won’t be going into town today, bambi; it’s not safe when she’s on the prowl. I don’t want her getting us all into trouble. We’ll go home and I’ll keep you safe from her, yes?”                        

“What ees zis place?! Where am I going? I forget zese streets and zose faces! And the weazer, my god zee Eenglish weazer, one minute eet is ‘ot and zen zee next zee sky opens and rain pours from zee ‘eavens! But zere looks like we should ‘ave sunshine long enough for us all to relax on the grass and catch zee warmth. Doesn’t zat sound lovely, mon aime? I do not remember zee last time zat zee sun shone so brightly, we must take this opportunity, oui?”                                      

“What are we doing here, kid? What’s all this? Our back against the grass when we could be doing something decent; I still have that wrist trick to show you! You’re pathetic, listening to that French squeeze and keeping the half-arsed excuse for an Italian happy! Yeah, you squirm; don’t like being told the truth, huh? Lives hard. Here’s a little something for you – might make us all feel a little better; ‘round and round the garden like an unloved kid, one step, two steps, SMACK IN THE RIBS!…I can go on all day, kid. Unless you want to take us somewhere else? Come on, get up and we’ll go for a walk. No? Fine! Struggle, struggle with your boat, blood fills the stream, scarily, scarily, scarily, scarily I’ve got a nasty scheme!”                    

 “Bambino! Bambi; what is it you are doing?! Go back! Sit back down! The sun’s out, go and enjoy the sun! Go back, lay down! Ignore her, we told you! Please sit down! It’s not safe. The town isn’t safe! Think about what it is you are doing! We know what she’s like; we know what she will do! Bambino! Non andare [Do not go]! Per l’amor di Cristo non vanno! [For christ’s sake do not go].”                              

“Eet seems like we will not get to enjoy zee sun after all – we are going into zee town? What are we going for? What is in zis town? Are we shopping?! Oui, we must be shopping, zat makes sense.”                                                                    

“….I’m so limited on freedom, I’m old enough to do everything and still I can’t. You see, I have this thing…that happens to me occasionally…sometimes…all the time. I can’t really explain it, you know? Don’t be too alarmed though! I always hear voices, honest! I just think my thoughts hate me…I don’t like it when everything buzzes, you know – it’s like the volume of the real world has been turned down, and the volume of my thoughts has been cranked up.”

An ongoing battle.

Its okay, my darling, don’t panic. Why are you panicking? It’s not like this is the first crime you’ve committed, though your record is prim and proper. You take the rope, twist, turn and morph it; that dirty yellow colour really speaks to you, doesn’t it?  If I was that type of person, I would worry about you and check you in. It doesn’t matter, back to the point, stop that crying! It’s pointless, tears won’t rectify anything now you silly, silly boy. Dry your tears, I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t mean to shout, you just make everything so difficult. I still don’t know how to deal with you, even after all these years. 

Shush, shush, none of that now, you’ve got a sweet enough face to get away with this, even caught red-handed. Well, I did warn you, didn’t I?! I told you to watch yourself! Or have someone else watch you! Me? I can’t follow you around all the time. How do you think we afford these luxuries?! Beautiful things don’t just fall out of the sky, young man. God? No, dear – there is no God.  Why? My, you ask so many questions! If there was a God we wouldn’t find ourselves like this, your mother wouldn’t have died and I wouldn’t be looking after you. Oh no!  Don’t take it like that, my love, no, no, I don’t hate you. In fact, you’re my life, my material beauty and my spirits saviour. What would I do without you, my mischievous sweetheart?

     There, that’s a good boy. Now let’s get you a drink, tea? Beer? Whiskey? Rum? Good choice. Are you feeling better now? Calmer? – Here’s your drink, get that down your throat quickly, before it gets too warm, it’ll calm your nerves. Now listen to what I say – you did nothing.  An unrecognisable man, covered completely apart from horrid dark eyes, ordered you to – or he said he’d kill you, yes? That’s right. Lying isn’t bad, not in this case. Would you rather be locked away!?  Who will soothe your fears, answer your questions and help you cope with your marvellous destiny? They’re not nice in there. That’s right, you stay with me, me who adores you, the only one you’ve got.

     Hmm, this is going to be worse than I thought. Why won’t you lie?! When did you suddenly gain the moral high-ground?! Fine, I’ll stand by and watch you press your self-destruct button, see where that gets you! Ungrateful little wretch, I should put my hands ’round thy throat and squeeze the life out of you, like water out of a sponge! Don’t resist, don’t you dare! Erugh! My hands! They’re bleeding, erugh! Where have you gone?! You were here a mere moment ago, staring relentlessly at me! Where have you gone?! My love, why did you disappear with the shattered glass!? Look what you made me do, my hands bleed and my beautiful glass, framed with gold, is broken! Come back and comfort me, please, while I am in pain, like I do for you. Please?

      Fine! Ignore my plea; deafen thy ears to my plight! Oh my dear, why would you leave me like this? I know! The pieces! Did I upset you, breaking them? I’ll put them back together if it pleases you, look! I’m putting them back together! Oh, what have I done?…What have I done?

Letters from a jumbled mind.

I  spent so much of my life sleeping; I figure that I’m making up for it now, by effortlessly staying awake. Music smashing in my ears, my ears clinging to the drums and my fingers tap against some window ledge that doesn’t feel real – nothing feels real. Is this room really here? I mean, I can see it; I can feel the objects my fingers curiously touch…but is it really here? Is this one of those realistic dreams? Pathetic! I can’t distinguish between reality and dreams anymore! Maybe this lack of sleep is really getting to me…but I don’t want to sleep: someone’s clock watching, watching for me and my end…why should I be a waster? I don’t want to be like them.
        But then, I suppose I am. Exactly like them; striving for originality in a sea of the same types of fishes, I’m not standing out here, I need a new ocean. A bigger one, where there are less of those similar to me: I’ll stick out like a sore thumb then, just like I want. Then again, I’m so familiar with this black ocean and it’s crashing waves, I don’t want to leave: everything’s one big blank, some dark abyss has swallowed me whole. Every fish is swimming away from me, to some shore where they might grow legs. Don’t leave me! I wanted to be unique, not alone! I was so scared of being alone.
        Here I am, three years down the line, in my own big black ocean, alone. I’m not scared anymore, funnily enough I’m not anything anymore. I mean even less than these waves that crash against me – the waves being my thoughts and the sea being life, if you hadn’t guessed my dear. What do I do now? I sit, stabbing pen against blank paper, trying to articulate words…even now I’m rambling. It’s just a habit: my life is just a habit. Get up, get dressed, go places, come home, stare at walls, do nothing, sit up and ponder of a night. Wow, interesting. I know the answer, but I’ve still got to ask: Was I left behind? Did I survive? I need to know…or is this black abyss death? I only have myself to talk to now and I’m engulfed with selfishness. Is that bad? I’m not sure of anything anymore. 
       What do people do when a feeling of impending doom looms in the melancholy sky? Drink? Take up smoking? Well neither of those help: trust me darling, I know. Someone suggested counselling and how I laughed, and then he left me too: come back, my love! Come back! Wherefore art thou, lover boy?! Look at me, getting all cliché; quite sickening, isn’t it? I thought I’d forgotten everything about you…but there it is lover boy; your nickname. Is it wrong that I feel proud for remembering just that little bit? I just wish I could remember what colour your eyes were.  There’s a lot I wish, but there you are, in some other sea of the correct colour (blue, I assume) with some other fish, leaving me. Me, who you swore you loved. Liar! Oh lying lover boy…I miss you. 
Look at this incoherent babble. Can’t you come back and rescue me? Patch together some lie, whisper some deceit and I’m yours – just like I used to be. Can’t you wrap me in some paper with intricate little patterns and open me for Christmas? You always said I was “so tempting”. I didn’t believe you then, and I most certainly don’t now. Maybe I should sleep…it really looks that way, from this. I don’t have anymore time to waste though, screw sleep, screw work, screw life and I can’t believe it – but most of all: screw you, lover boy. 
       You know, I tried talking to Jesus, but he just put me on hold. Am I dead, sold to Lucifer? Or am I still alive and unworthy? Or just out of his divine clutches? Can you answer me that, stranger? This is a letter: my letter to you; lacking confidence, humanity, sense and morality. Just like my life – but you already knew that for you know me, I just never knew you.

I’m sorry…or I think I am.
I love you…or I think I do.
Come and tell me what to think and do, won’t you

Narcissus.

                        “Tiresias, tell me, will Narcissus live a long life?”

                              “He will if he never knows himself.”

                                _________________________

Oh how they follow me, here and there, begging for me. Practically on their knees showering me with compliments I have heard before – I tire of them! Wenches and Hags! So many of them that I can’t remember their names or faces, they make a tyrant of me.

They won’t disappear, their voices Echo, no one standing out, all exactly the same, like their vain wishes to obtain me. I’m a deer hunter and all I want to hunt is deer, my desire is nothing as simple as that. So, every soul that throws itself at my feet shall be kicked aside, I shall refuse them all.

To the woods I go and none of them shall dare follow me, its wildness deflects them all and I have peace. Hark! What was that? Footsteps?! Who goes there!?

‘Goes there…goes there…goes there….goes….there.’

Who goes there?! Echoing my own words with your cowardly voice! So often I have called and still I hear you – there is no trickery. Show yourself….It is you! Ack! Take your hands from me! Leave me be, wench! Take leave this instance! You won’t?! In that case,  I take leave of you!

I have been roaming for hours, I must stop for water. There is a stream close by; I can quench my thirst there. There it is! Oh my! Who is that beautiful creature staring back at me?! O, that I should never lay eyes on a beauty as striking as this one! I wish to see nothing but what I see now, I wish to hear nothing but the sounds I hear now! I do wish that Echo would leave! Leave me in silence!

I must lean in and steal a kiss! This striking figure will not mind, he cannot!….Mercy! Why do you run from me?!…Oh…there he settles again, tormenting me so! Running from me, the very same that loves him so completely! I must not touch…I cannot disturb him. What a beauty! What a devastating beauty!

                                 __________________________

     And from the very spot where that beauty lost his last breath, bright          yellow  flowers with another inside it, of a darker shade protecting its    intimate parts shoot from the ground; a true representation of beauty.