Beloved Howard,
Through my very own concussion concocted for my own personal agenda....I could hear the cracks well enough...the cracks now pounding and throbbing against my cranium....and the fresh cracks now opening up...trying to allow some of my resonating thoughts to be let out....for some of my own(again and cringes) creations to seep out and float far far away for me..
I do NOT need this...I did NOT bargain for this....THIS is the part I’m always afraid of...the part where I have to literally force myself to see the better, the clearer, the bigger picture...all to be given eventually the same old response I have dreaded throughout my life....The same old response that makes me cringe for an eclipsed day...and an undying night...where I can sink into my very own pits f hell....transform into the real me...the weird alien in every situation....the man against every word ever written for anything positive...the man every other man hates....and the man who likewise hates every other man...Even the thoughts of being with my Ghost are not placating enough right now...
The truth lies in the simple honest response...An apology that goes unanswered perhaps beats the living crap out of you...and if a confession of genuine feelings towards someone also goes unanswered at the same time.....it leaves the person undone for life...and nevermind the facade now...it serves no purpose..
I am falling through my pit unending and helpless....my own not overeager to escape my lips scream barely reaches the walls and the faintly disappears against its own echo...which is also absorbed by the very moss on the walls....There’s moss.....I thought I would be past noticing anything.....My very own hell....with no fire....just splitting headaches and facing the world of rejection every second of my existence....Roxie....I know how you felt....EVERYTIME!!!
Nullified by my very own ego, I cradle in my own hearth....stoking the fire with my bones....and my hair braided together and gelled in my tears to dry up to make a good poke....(I’ve always had good texture). There aren’t enough undertakes to collect my pieces and burn them for the poison that they are....so they let them lay....and dry up on their own...and wither with natural decomposition...
Goodnight Love
Yours finally at Peace
Choleric
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The following letters are to the one man who will never lay eyes upon them
1 comment:
I would simply say you are over reacting.
Rejection is just coming one step nearer to the ideal person, and no, this is not of those pseudo motivational and esoteric statements that we regularly come across.
Amitabh Bachchan gave 12 flops before that one hit.
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