Death Knell

I’ve heard the clamor of Church bells
I’ve heard the jangle of Christmas cheer
And the voice of my Grandmother saying I’m a free man.

Wednesday, 2. January, 2008 · , &

You Are Tugging at My Heart Strings, Please Stop

I was a lonely one. Wrapped up in the hard-shelled follies of self-pity.

I cracked that coconut. I keep cracking it. And every time I do, it doesn’t take long for me to slip back into folly. It’s a goddamn roller-coaster I can’t seem to get off.

The story of my mind is that of two rampant tugboats trying to maneuver a 400,000 tonne oil tanker in a tiny harbour. They both have their own conflicting ideas of how the maneuvering should be done. Pulling in the same direction never crosses their minds.

There’s the logical, stoic tugboat calmly explaining: «Hey, this is the obvious route to go. It’s also safer.»

And then there’s the lovelorn, hopelessly romantic tugboat proclaiming: «But this is the scenic route! Never mind peril, look at that sunset!»

Well, fuck them both. They’re nothing but trouble. Yet I seem to be anchored to them for life.

Friday, 10. August, 2007 · , &

Umbilical

Everything was going so well — then I realized something.

I’ve only had two real realizations in my life. The first was a moment cut unto itself and was wholly wondrous and beautiful; it made me see the world differently. The second broke me into bloody jigsaw pieces I have no idea how to put back together.

Every time I am reminded of it, my heart sinks. The times I manage to put it out of my mind, I feel better. But as soon as it appears, my heart sinks again; like a bathysphere torn loose from its umbilical.

Friday, 2. March, 2007 · &

To be Thought a Fool

A while back I wrote about «that mysterious, wild-eyed, quiet stranger» and how I wished I was such a someone.

Today I realized it might be a good thing that I’m not. What hell it must be to always stay in the corner, alone — fearing that if you were ever to partake in sociable conduct your cover would be blown. As soon as your mouth opened, you’d be exposed as the socially awkward, shy man you really are. Or as a complete buffoon, void of any of the clandestine elegance formerly exuded.

‘Tis better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt, as they say.

In many ways I am a mysterious, quiet stranger (not wild-eyed, I think). I never know if I should introduce myself when meeting friends of friends, and I always keep quiet and out of the way. The few times I do say something, it’s either commonplace or spoken so softly low that I might as well have kept it inside my head. It would probably have made more noise reverberating inside my skull anyway.

The usual reaction new people have when meeting me is «you’re so quiet» and/or «is something wrong?» Yes, I’m quiet. A lot of things are wrong, but I always look like this.

‘Tis better to remain silent and be thought a fool, et cetera.

Then again, maybe it’s better to be a proven fool who, at the very least, tries, than the suspect of a wordless crime deferred.

Monday, 12. February, 2007 · , , , &