Sunday, August 24, 2008

talk about foresight (at hindsight)

this is being written as i consider suicide.
the sleeping pills know the way to the garage and might
do me in before i begin to protest.

Letter to myself, from a week ago:

before ever attempting suicide:
read poetry or newspapers in the hope
that either will

change your life.try dancing again and fracture a toe/
sprain a ligament/bump into someone to
remind yourself of how it once changed your life.
cry over it,

get over it.be a black bird without mercy,
join a conspiracy,kill a
bitch and say im jealous of you.stop believing in
karma, put it in a tarot card and motion blur

the shit.give up trying to belong to
borrowed walls, know no safer
roofs than accumulated dreams.consider this: every
line drawing grows into a Venn diagram if not
left alone.give yourself 90 minutes in hell for a little

longer than this, and at a stretch.look at the
mirror, say FUCK i have nothing to do with this and
break it.walk in and walk out of being ok and do
it very fast do it like a firefighter against

ocean currents, his training futile,
still 
wired to fighting for safety.write an email and know that
this is romance. the air you breathe in is a different
country and your face is a safety-pin(up).bless distance and
stretch it like a continent until it
gives way to
your seas, bless plate tectonics for
teaching the world freedom.break free and
know:

this is romance.call shayo up and pray she
sings live forever.try saying yes.say, the pins sticking

out of my tongue need safe disposal, yes. say,
Im starved and lonely and I drew your face but

I was really just hoping it was a smoke and I haven't swallowed
yet I'm waiting,yes. I'm the person who'd find you like you
find her but you dont

come around. paint a pebble for one whole day.
paint a pebble for a little longer.
keep painting the pebble till your mother comes and
throws it away and get back to being

the absence of sense and delete the
last blog post and throw away the pills because
they're hers, really, who wants to use her stuff.this 

is getting tiring, sleep it

over and forget about it, you can't for the life of you
do it anyway.


This was there like a fishbone stuck in one's throat, but i can
only guess.I don't eat fish, they reek of premature

death and regrets. it was like the first day
of the knowledge of cancer,the last
method of redemption and its lost procedure guide.it
was there like hems around my lungs and i pulled it out,
wrapped up the pills in it, and realized that they didn't 

come with my expiry date anyway.

15 comments:

Debs said...

No wonder two people named Jim and Kurt sang 'People are Strange' and 'About a Girl'. The latter ironically had some thing like the post though.

little boxes said...

whats with the death fixation?
but the feeling has been beautifully captured.

Saturnalia's Offspring said...

I don't know what to say about this without feeling foolish, but you'd probably still like to know someone liked what you wrote.
Shippy I want to plagiarise you aaa! Or maybe not.

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Doubletake, Doublethink. said...

something similar:

razors pain you; rivers are damp,
acids stain you; drugs cause cramp,
guns aren't lawful; nooses give,
gas smells awful; you might as well live.

that be dorothy parker, thinking along the same lines some decades ago. only she was more vitriolic and to the point, and you're ship.
:)

Doubletake, Doublethink. said...

ps. love the post title

Parv Kaushik said...

amazing simply!! death u fascinated by it too????

Jadis said...

chalo i don't even need to say a thing. people've been gushing like nobody's business. :)




i love it waaaaaaaaaaaaa!

weevil girl said...

thank you all :)
ah fascinated by death or not im not sure, i dont spend much time mulling over it, well :P

also, pray tell, would any of you call it poetry? no there's been a debate over this so yeah. opinions please.

Saturnalia's Offspring said...

bukowksi is poetry, yes?
e.e.cummings is poetry, yes?

Red Blue Spies said...

It is whatever you want it to be. And it's surprisingly cruel.

Kazarelth said...

Why do you say they are "Crap attempts"?

LD said...

You asked me about this.
A: It is.

PS: I'm online from the desktop so I can't sign in bleh.

sharath said...

we have 60 years anyway. can be likened to 60 raffle tickets to a loong drawn play. why throw them off anyway..
enigma85@rediffmail.com

Scribblers Inc said...

death or glory...choose...or better...loose...

Scribblers Inc.