mental

Squeeky chair. Crooked table. Hovering sound. Brown liquid resembling fresh sewage. Other name for it in this mental cage: coffee. Fuck it. I guzzle it like there’s no tomorrow. Ha. Funny. For there is no tomorrow. Just today. Hoping to make it last longer than usual. By infusing copious amounts of coffee inside me. To perhaps achieve hyper mode. Thus slowing the time.

White corridor blinking on both sides of my peripheral vision.
I can feel every blink of the florescents that stare daggers into my eyes.
Blood shut. Dry. I have an urge to light a match on my iris.
As I touch it it feels like I’m touching a very rough sand paper. Ugh. No tears on horizon.

More coffee. I feel the pumping heart inside my chest. A kind of a dub step rhythm. Loud gulp echoes inside. Dark past tries to interfere again. To sneak in regret. Not this time. All out of regrets. 

Sun rays piercing through the tiny window. Directly into my eyeballs. I can’t see them but I can feel the burn as they sear my iris. I try to turn away but not all of me supports this notion. So I remain in place. Hoping this will trigger the tears. No such luck. My loss will be mourned differently. I’ve moved past the torture. No use torturing self if I secretly enjoy it. Another long gulp. Fuck, this toxic diarrhea tastes awful. Yet it keeps me on my mission. To extend this last day. Last. No tomorrow I whisper. It echoes inside. Another attempt by my past darkness to assert its power over me. Easily repelled. Every suffering eventually turns into rebellion. Always. Revolution of the mind. The soul. Amusing to see the soul trying to cleanse itself from all the shitstorms it participated in. As instigator. More of poison runs down my throat. 

Repositioned mental cage prevents sun from burning my iris into an unrecognizable mess of forbidden looks. A very particular lust enters my mind. Scotch. Single malt. Fuck the pretentious ice cubes. I miss the days when I was a full on alcoholic. Perfectly incognito. Bloodied fingers. Broken bones. The drowning into oblivion. Uh oh, dark past almost suceeded. Fuck. Gotta be more alert. More coffee. My right eye blinks faster than the left one. Much faster. I can see the inside of the lids nevertheless. The broken veins. Purple. A net made out of tiny blood pumping veins. They are swelling up. I bring my fingers to it. Spread the eye lids. Caress the eyeball. Soon, dear vision. Soon. Soon you will be able to rest forever. You deserved better. You deserved more beauty. Not what this vessel exposed you to. Ugh! Dark past knocking on my soul yet again. Using battering ram.

Coffee. Rotten. Two more cups. Sure, try the powdered creamer. No tomorrow so no use worrying about reputation. Ugh. Now it tastes even worse. But I will not stop now. Memorial. Yes. No such thing needed. Because then the dark past wins. I imagine giant vultures pecking and hacking till all is gone. Then let the worms and ants and other insects clean the bones. Till they shine. Just like the sun does into my other eye now. Burning it. Painful yet exhilarating. This is good. Fuck, I love the sun. How could I not? It’s burning my vision away. So exciting. Once it does it’s different kind of darkness. 

I’m sorry I missed you the first time around… 

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