the void and the girl in the next room
She kisses me at the edge of dawn last night. For
fifteen, twenty minutes, maybe more. Nothing more. But in the crisp winter night
that kiss held a sort of promise Tonight she's in my flatmate's room, I can hear
their voices, would so love not to hear
them.
Life is not a meaningless tale
told by an idiot, it is a cruel joke played on us by juvenile gods that play
with us like bored brats with insects in a
jar.
Last night I had a whiff of
promise come to me in the night, or so I thought. Several times. I allowed
myself to dream, which these days is always a mistake (is it not always?). There
was no promise in that encounter, only hope and ephemeral emotion of one moment,
soon to pass. At least for one of
us.
I'm on my own. I am alone and
should not expect else. Outside the world carries on. Will carry on without
me
I feel the cold of the winter night,
the desperate howl of the animal alone in the wasteland under a frozen moon, the
biting wind of time relentless and space immeasurable, the vast expanses of
black yawning nothingness waiting for
me
I am alone. I should not count on
anyone. There may be friends out there (and indeed there are and the knowing
they are there is precious to me ) but the presence I need does not exist. This
is clear and has been shown to be true many times. I type hard not to hear the
voices and noises from the next room, I am that lonely frightened small beast
in the plains under the white moon chased by clouds, shivering in the cold wind,
peering into the distance and mistaking the mirages of the night for possible
company.
I am alone.
Posted: Mon - December
8, 2003 at 04:51 PM