this feels like the funniest week of my life.
people are concerned about my well-being, as if i'll jump in front of any passing cab.
they said, "tell me about death. do you think about it often?"
well, yes, of course. doesn't everyone?
why do so many try so hard, every day, to ignore the reality that we all die someday.
i'm just trying to remind everyone: you will die.
and though i have no intention of meeting death cordially and so soon -
no, we don't have a lunch date, nor have we scheduled afternoon tea - it has
placed itself rather delicately and firmly at the front of my thoughts.
she's concerned about my safety - what safety? me, here, in my room,
writing and listening to music. who knew it could be so dangerous?
i walked home last night feeling no possible harm could meet me from the streets that
couldn't be worse than the monster or cavity or whatever inside of me. oh that horrid villain, it's alive, sparks of electricity shooting everywhere, illuminating wild eyes. that's how it goes in my head, mad scientists, probing, creation of a creature great and terrible. [but who is frankenstein?]
the greatest danger is myself, which makes me giggle and giggle,
for i'm powerless
About Me
- alia
- "too much stuff, too many places, too much information, too many people, too much of things for there to be too much of, there is too much to know and i don't know where to begin but i want to try."
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1 comment:
True, true. (not the you being frankenstein, although the imagery is interesting)
I especially love the way that the last paragraph-sized bit of this sounds. Something about the way it flows just seems really beautiful to me.
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