14.4.2000

Curled up in a little ball. Is that me? Am I here?

If I could I would
make this screen look like a million little cuts.

And I would color them all blue, to tell a little tale.

I know I need to sleep. I know I need to stop. I know I can't. I know I don't want to.
Why do I want to cut? I ask and I get screams as answers and I have to block my ears because the voices hurt me so.
I try to push the darkness back a little, to protect myself in a circle of light but somehow I always run out of wood and I always forget it's not the darkness I'm hiding from, it's the howls in there, and if I let the darkness come they wouldn't see me. But I don't believe in escaping. I believe in nothing.

I have to grab that thought. I have to make it mine, I have to grow into it because it will keep me alive. And I have to forget the dissonance and I have to forget the will. And I have to ignore the fact that I'm ignoring. I have to keep forgetting, pushing back, I have to. I have to. Think of that thought, nothing else. Don't let it get loose, don't let it surface, keep safe, keep it stable, stay alive.

And here's a gift for you, a gift of a pair of wings that'll never support you if you try to fly. Don't believe in gifts. Make it go away, force it. Here's another little something for you, it's a cage which will never stop the demons if you try to put them here but which will lock you inside forever if you lose the key. And there's no key. Enjoy your stay.

Add a little bit of melancholy to melodrama, mix and you get me. And I'll taste like chocolate and you'll enjoy my stay until the day... until the day you finally realize, there's no reason to find the way out, there's no place to go, there's no one. And I know you will try to scream and I know you will try to escape and you know I know more than I say but there's no revelations, not in the end. There's no bright light and you know it as well as I do, even if you aren't a mix of one whole fool and a bit of light blue.

And will you give me a reason to believe in bright little light? I thought so. Because nothing's there when you want it, nothing is given, nothing is available. You will love nothing but your own feeling of love. That is the way I was explained by my father who sat on the edge of the cloud and talked to me when I tried to hide and when I tried to scream of fear.

What separates the ramblings of a madman from the ramblings of a genius?
(Very little. But it is enough.)