Thursday, October 29, 2009

Apples disgust me. The dark, red peel is just about the only tolerable part. It looks like a layer of dried blood (although it lacks the flavour and the rich, salty swell, it looks like it…). Beneath that, the stupid yellow-cream “flesh”. Like old talcum powder gone moist with the spittle from a thousand organisms that grew inside of it. Gulping it down to the core is an ordeal. No matter. Finally I spot them seeds. Tiny seeds. They say that the seeds have cyanide in them. I smile. I stare at the little brown beady things for a while.Cynical…no I’m not…cynical. Cynical, cynical… Cyanide. Imagining a world beyond. Skeptical. How easily these things are available. How simple it can be.Skeptical skeptical. Why hadn’t anyone tried this before?…skeptical. I cannot hold back anymore. I take one of the tiny seeds in my palm, chomp down hard on it. It cracks between my teeth, something pops out. I anticipate. Yes, any moment the oxygen to my brain should be cut off. I wait.
 And wait. And wait. The room has grown dark around me. Still nothing…And then that annoying, tittering giggle. No. No. No! I cannot take this anymore! Please just let me die. The laughter grows louder. I know its not in my head. I don’t know who or what or where. All I know is I’m scared. That  giggle. Its annoying, vulgar, obnoxious. Spooks the shit out of me. No. distraction no distraction no distraction… Yes, look around. There’s bound to be something. Anything!  Get that laugh away. I shove my fingers in my ears till my head hurts fit to crack in two. I can still hear that dirty laugh. My eyes rapidly travel across the room, searching for its source. I look at the empty barrel of the gun, the holes in my body from the bullets, the unbloodied knife and the useless cuts in my arms and legs, equally bloodless, the noose hanging limp from the fan. Boy! Now that had been a strange one. The noose had gotten looser each time I attempted strangulation. Looking still. Poisons and potions, blades, needles, a myriad pills, plastic bags, burnt rags, airtight boxes…all the possible ways you could think of to kill yourself. And then some more. Human ways. Others’  ways. Nothing worked. Not for the last century and a half. No way to shut it off. Not insane.  I’m not insane. That drives me insane. Dark. Giggle. My room. Dark. Dark. Dark. (laughter) NO!! DARK DARK DARK DARK DARKDARKDARKDARK….
giggle giggle giggle giggle giggle giggle giggle