box

There is a box. It's just laying there in the middle of the floor. Hanging off the box is a tiny string, and you see that it leads into the box. Because you're too afraid of opening the box, you pull at the string. You pull and you pull and pull, in hope and desperation that you'll find an end, so that there's nothing left in the box... But it never ends. The string keeps coming and your arms keep pulling, you get so tired that you fall to your knees at the floor and pull until you use your last bit of strength until you cannot pull any more.

scars

She slowly undressed herself, exposing the incisions on her pale, fragile skin. Frightened, shivers ran through his veins as he approached her. "Please, don't be scared about what I'm about to do" he whispered. He pressed the healing wound to his lips and kissed it gently. Slowly he raised his hand, gently caressing below her collarbones and said

"Not only do I wish for those scars against my lips to heal, but I wish for these scars within your soul to heal too"

Alcohol is always the cure, the liquid simultaneously associated with joy and sorrow. Yet people indulge in it for one reason, not to feel. It is an interesting state of mind to be in, one where you are empty. Like emptiness is something we want to achieve, to obtain. How sad must we be to want a state of nothingness, a state of not wanting to feel a thing, to actually want nothing.

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what's the cure for loneliness
are there drugs I can take for despair
can I get therapy for hopelessness
is there a skin patch for guilt
or a cream for low self-esteem
maybe a spray for tiredness
do I take a ticket at the counter and wait my turn
do they accept EFTPOS or just cash
what if i want to make a return
what if they don't work
i'm afraid they won't work

True love

I think true love is waking up in the morning, reaching over to the space in the bed next to yours and caress someone's gentle skin while you're still half unconscious... It's looking over at them still half asleep and staring at their face and still thinking that they're beautiful regardless of how gross they feel they are that morning... Or afternoon... Or evening. It's waking up in that daze to put your favourite records on in the morning and make a meal filled with sincerity, compassion and love. True love is singing those records together knowing that even though you've felt so much, the day has only yet to start. It's the soft goodbye kiss in the morning before you leave to work. It's the text message you receive as you're exiting the apartment door saying 'I love you' and it's also forgetting your lunch and having to see their face another time, yet it's only the beginning of the day.

I think true love is walking into your workplace with them on your mind, thinking about how they'll be there when you get back home, or how you'll wait until they get there. It's sending them a message at lunch time, explaining how Tim and Jodie have relationship problems and how Martha got a new car, none of it really matters, but those moments of contact are the ones you cherish and enjoy. It's placing pictures of them on your wall and reminding yourself why you keep working this mediocre job. True love is that moment of freedom when the clock strikes five and you rush to the car. It's the drive home where you grab cheap take-out while you try to remember what they wanted but order just a bit too much. But that's okay because that'll be tomorrow's breakfast.

I think true love is finally coming home to see the smile on their face the look of mild disappointment when you got the wrong order again. But that's okay because despite how many times you've screwed up the order, you still manage to have a laugh about it. It's sitting at the table, putting on another one of your favourite records to listen to. It's telling them how track four is much better than track eight, and it's them disagreeing and saying track one is the pinnacle of the record. True love is washing up together and watching them smile at you when you accidentally splash water on their favourite shirt that they just bought. It's getting into bed and staring at each other while you ponder how things got like this how things are the way they are. True love is giggling while making love because you're just so comfortable and it's putting on cheesy 90s dance music while you do so. True love is the moment the both of you fall asleep in each others company, but not necessarily in each other's arms.

True love is also the moment where you know that this will happen when you wake up again.

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Who knew nights could be so lonely and desolate, when the very thing you use to interact with the world, every object and its intricacies can be placed in this psychological trappedness while it stays in physical trappedness. It's perplexing and undoubtedly non-sensical that I sit here, in the very position I am, feeling this way, bleeding the words out like an exit wound. I bleed slowly yet profusely, and it leaves my conscious self behind while only truth seeps through my fingertips and protrudes its way into my words showing no signs of stopping. But do not worry, these are just minuscule ramblings created from temporary insanity.

Imagined reflections

"I'm going to do some soul searching, but it won't be through any material means. It will be through mental exercise, but this can only go two ways. Firstly my dear, I will become completely insane trying to answer unanswerable questions. Secondly, I may find conclusions to questions that I have yet to postulate. You see my dilemma?"

"But dear, do not worry. Do not worry at all. You will find answers to questions that you have not yet postulated and it will all be okay. Everything will be okay, I promise."

"I struggle to cling onto whatever's left and then pretend whatever's left is all that's there. Then I believe what's left, and when I believe what's left then I can't help but think that it's how I really am"

"Do not go on further please, this pains me to hear"

"I can't not go on dear, this story is old and it goes 'on and on until we disappear'. It's never ending, never ceasing, always continuing and it shows no signs of coming to an end. I'm so sorry."

"I want you to be safe"

"My safety should be the least of your concerns, the priority here is your safety. As long as you are safe my daring, I will be. Trust me on that. Please trust me"

Ambiguity lost

It's becoming more personal now and less vague. The ambiguity in writing is becoming a  thing that is lost. And with that statement, I think I will reach my well deserved rest.

End of the world

If the world really ended on the 21st of December...


I imagine a few things,


I imagine that there would be people all around the world telling people what they’ve always wanted to tell them. People telling others that they love them, that they miss them, that they forgive them, that they wished things would turn out different, all of the things that we keep inside ourselves and wait for the ‘right time’ to, or just things we thought we would never ever say.


I also imagine that there would be people around the world doing things that they wouldn’t normally do. Impulsive things, things out of their ‘character’ and things that because of the bounds of society, they wouldn’t do in the first place. This would show firstly who they really are and secondly what they want to be.


I finally imagine that despite these two things above, people will use whatever time they have left wisely. Ration it between the above two things and some people will not even ration it at all. Whether the last few days are spent telling people how much they love them or doing things that they wouldn’t normally do, they would spend that time wisely and make sure that every second of their entire existence was towards something of value.


But I guess people aren’t doing this, so the world isn’t going to end. It almost makes me want it to.

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Because when I say your name, my brain fires in a way that conjures every single memory, every single moment I have spent. But I refuse to keep writing because this is merely a work of fictional prose.