Suicide note.
I exist within the space between your future and your past. I exist within the shadows that your body writhing atop your lover casts. I exist inside your sighs, between the echo of your laughter and your cries.
Between remembering and trying to forget. That passing nth of a second in which you close your eyes only to make the lump in your throat recede is where I find myself inextricably manifested for perhaps all of time yet to come. And perhaps beyond it. Perhaps you will pass me on like an unwanted disease to all those who accidentally fall in love like you did and within their moments of regret I will find immortality. Or perhaps I will finally find reprieve when you mortal coil snaps.
But until then, I must exist, like the shadows must and as must the light. Like the lingering taste of bad decisions and like the eternal stench of regret. I must exist until you cease to, and therefore this death that I chose is no death at all but a futile attempt to find again the solace I have only ever known in the dusky sweet smell of your just washed hair
Between remembering and trying to forget. That passing nth of a second in which you close your eyes only to make the lump in your throat recede is where I find myself inextricably manifested for perhaps all of time yet to come. And perhaps beyond it. Perhaps you will pass me on like an unwanted disease to all those who accidentally fall in love like you did and within their moments of regret I will find immortality. Or perhaps I will finally find reprieve when you mortal coil snaps.
But until then, I must exist, like the shadows must and as must the light. Like the lingering taste of bad decisions and like the eternal stench of regret. I must exist until you cease to, and therefore this death that I chose is no death at all but a futile attempt to find again the solace I have only ever known in the dusky sweet smell of your just washed hair
Comments
you've captured each painful emotion so beautifully... it literally hurts.
Live to tell more tales.
What's gonna happen? really dont want the same conclusion.
damn
hell, you be one of the best in the business, i would be stupid not too. :D
take care of yourself, keep on writing.
let alone trying to realize that you have just "experienced", clearly, an invigorating piece of literature!
Remember misfits?
Dead end girl for a dead end guy ;)
excellent. someone in the comments said that this was experiencing literature... dude, the hair on my back are cold and on full freakin alert.
The way you have developed, adamantly to the say the least, developed this alter ego that constantly and sometimes naggingly manages to talk to all of us... nothing short of remarkable.
They say that everyone get to be a genuis once in a while, but it takes a real genius to reproduce that very ingenuity at whim. My friend, I really do not know if you are a genius, but I only read the piece once and I can assure you, this piece was PURE GENIUS.
P.S. is it the desert-smellin winds of dubai or are the nightclubs not good enuff? :P whats up ma man? :)
Listen...
Before these ego-inflatin comments make you forget that expression isn't exactly all about all that.
I don't understand why your posts must be filled with this kind of acerbic crap. I must sound rude but I insist. I insist on intervening this constant pressure of praise.
Judging from the kind of guy you are .... or maybe you're not that guy.. is it really why you write?
If so.. then it's a pity.
Moody, you are too kind. This particular piece be genius, i'm certainly not. And its nothing to do with the sand or the night clubs, as you so astutely pointed out, the alter ego of mine which has teh ability to write felt like commiting suicide i suppose and this happend.
Majaz: Pty indeed. Acerbic crap makes an intersting visual. Any how, to adress your comment, this blog is bitter because it was borne of a bitter sentiment. This blog isn't a show case for my life, it's simply the place where i purge. Dark moments, when expereinced vividly enough to give rise to prose are recorded here, nothing else. I'm sorry to hear that you judge my personality based on what you see here, i would advise against it. But you're welcome to your opinon and your judgment. You're also welcome to not visit this blog if you deem everything on it to be acerbic crap. But the fact that you do come by often, besides being appreciate also says something about your personality aswell. And if i were the sort to judge people i would prolly guage you as being someone who likes or atleast relates to acerbic crap. Isn't that a pity?
It's better not to judge, i would say, and enjoy what you find here if its your kinda thang. IF you don't enjoy it, i wonder why you happen by?
just came across your blog reading someone else's (arooj), and i must say, you certainly have a way with words and emotions....
at this point in time, i've only read the suicide note, and "Strands", from your unnamed story. Both, in my humble opinion, are amazing pieces.
I hope you don't mind me linking you from my blog...and excuse my rudity, but i feel obliged to do it anyways =P
"Benighted"....by any chance an opeth reference? or am i just grabbing at sheer nothings here?
The idea behind your work, Beknighted, it seems is this very bitterness that churns out most of your literature. I don't have anything against it per se. I was advised to let it be. And I didn't. Against the better judgment, might I add. However, I wanted to say something because doesn't it, pray tell, get nauseous to be filled by praise all around you? Doesn't it even, if I daresay, degrade the quality of your work? If you dare to call your work crap - you must dare to avoid praise.
Your frontline already looks fine with the honesty. I just hope you can infuse your dark moments with a more uplifting tone sometimes. Life isn't all gutters and Ash Wednesdays.
Believe me. I know.