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(no subject)
May. 28th, 2011 12:45 pm
It is not enough. I push my fingers into my shoulder to explore and I recognize that I am meat. Dead chicken body. I will not be a cannibal, so I do not eat. There is no reason not to when I am alone, so I bleed. I starve, I bleed, I hurt. This is not enough.
I was too late, I see this now. If I meant to, I would walk until I found a cliff or tall building and then continue to walk. I do not. I punish myself, but anything more is too far. I punish myself in many ways because I waited too long to walk.
If I am unable to be a man, I must be numb. For this, I need money. I must find a way. I will find others to punish me, if necessary.
Я ам жаль, мама.
(no subject)
Apr. 26th, 2011 05:30 pm
It is your fault that they weep for you. It is your fault that they will miss you. It is your fault that they do not understand you. It is your fault that they must kill you from their hearts, where you never wished to enter. It is your fault that you are wounded when it is so simple to let you go. Do you not see how lucky you are that they ever cared?
It is your fault because you are strange and selfish and cruel and silent and... contradictory. It is your fault because you can not smile when they do. It is your fault because you do not cry when you should. It is easy. Why would you not try? You must hate them not to try.
It is your own fault that the world is black. Change, or they will tire of you quickly.
(no subject)
Apr. 16th, 2011 08:23 pm
I would like to be able to explain why. It is a barrier of language, but it would be no easier in русский язык. There is not language enough for what I could say.
It would seem as if it was Alexi and Vadim that caused it. That is what others say. They left, one because I was inadequate and the other because the world was inadequate. I know this, have seen it. They are only two, others say. There are more. You will find more.
I do not want more. "More" will also leave. All things leave. It was them that made me see but it is now all I see. I weigh those moments together with the pain after and I do not want to stay. And I do not deserve to stay.
What was beautiful to me? I should remember. Night. Sharpness. Order. Control. Stillness. Music that screams.
I remember the painting of my mother's in my flat... diamonds on a velvet red as blood. It is gone. Desperate to be human, I took away all that was mine. Now I am a monster who does not fit.
(no subject)
Apr. 10th, 2011 02:01 pm
I remember him today. He was strong, stronger than anything. He was my mother more than I am, although she did not birth him.
I think he has infected me. He would be happy. When he exploded, there were bits of him on my face and I thought to eat them would be right. That would have made him smile. There are so many horrible words that he makes me think of that are dear to me now. I wish they were not so dear. I would like nothing to be dear to me. It is what I say to myself, that there is nothing. Is a memory a thing? You can not touch it but it lives and dies inside bodies. A ghost of a memory... something that was a thought and now is less. Like echoes.
The only things that stir in me are dead things. I am of corpses.
I am honest because there is no one left to hear.
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