<$BlogRSDUrl$>
the 'Fist' & the 'Pacifist'
Though my soul may set in darkness, it shall rise in perfect light,
I have loved the stars too fondly, to be fearful of the night.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
The worst thing that can happen is to be awake at night without sleep. Every moment is spent grappling with the devil.

The mind is such a dangerous thing. It remembers all that you have buried. Piled with earth. Knelt and prayed over.

It mercilessly digs up the past, gnawing at your belief in the future.
Its malicious claws rummage the earth, de-weeding time.

And all you can do is to talk to yourself. To hum your favorite song. To recite a schoolboy rhyme. It doesn't help if you switch on the lights. It doesn't go away if you unclasp the window.

After awhile it degenerates into a decibel melee. Your voice - your little voice in your head. Indignant and scared. Trying to drown out a chorus of a million deep and deceptive voices. Deafening in unison. Frenzied in discord.

Then all that is left is to pray. Pray that the night ends and that sleep takes you away. Unknown to yourself... you pray for death.


Labels:

8 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home
/ permalinkPermalink