Skip to main content

Day 21: Manipulation, Isolation, Apologies

The snake slithered down my neck, teeth clashing, bones shaking, tiptoes ringing the hallways in the dark. The lack of sleep and rest weakened my senses waiting for the moment that she'd wake up and rise to the call -- whatever. My libido was all that mattered to me, the snake said, when it crawled down to my heart. Hisssssssssssssss, it did, and hissssssssssssssssss, it beckoned. My heart tasted bittersweet with the essence of its venom rising through my neurosensory networks. Death awaits you, it whispered. No escape.

I looked towards my side. My muscles aren't half as bad as they think it is. Three bottles of urine greeted my sight. I turn away in disgust. I rise again to watch my whispers coming. Whispers of she, whispers of a familiar time I long to return. It's over, the snake whispered again.

Is this like a breakup? I voiced to the whispers.

The snake replied, even when not spoken to. Do you wish it was?

No, no, no, not at all, that's what I said. My being was stuck in its candour. I didn't mean it, even when I was mad.

And the snake said, I wish it was.

I fell down to my knees, squirmed to a ball, and I begged the pain to go away. Please. Not the first time I begged in my life, not the first time in that month, and certainly not the first time during that week.

I begged like a fool and I begged under three full moons. This was not a future that I had envisioned. It was all slipping away. All because of my libido. My libido made all the difference. My sexual urges destroyed my direction in life. The whispers were running away, into the deep mist, flying over the sky like a diamond in a bridge.

Three weeks of madness. This was only the beginning.

My hearse was empty and waiting. The snake has died, but its venom remained.

The snake died and I retained its being.

There is no end to the folly of pain.

Popular posts from this blog

Snippet: In her darkest days, Elaine (worldbuilding), unfinished

Voices of strange busybodies could be heard on the other side of the edifice. Elaine reckoned she recognised one of them. An old friend. Perhaps not necessarily a friend, or not technically a friend. A friend is a rare commodity for her these days. She could walk right past them and not blink an eye, but Elaine waited for a little bit more until the lot toned down. Having a group of opposites around her, poking her skin through their eyes, meticulously making sure she was an enabler who to them an abundant source of entertainment, was all the reason needed to convince herself to back away from the complexity of it all. Home is an awful lot more awful than this place though, Elaine thought, as she gripped her handbag tightly, hoping the ray of darkness from the moon would envelope her and shield her from the attention of the lonesome trail.
"This would not have happened had you only listened to me, Elaine," complained Darco. "Half the people out there would skin us both…

Bucket on my head

Some things in my life are doing really good right now; so good, it's suspect. I smell a tragedy brewing in the background; waiting, brewing, gesticulating. I am scared but I am ready. My holidays starting tomorrow will be quite something then, if nothing else. Actually, someone else's holidays of which I merely am riding with their coattails on. But the real story is how the development of absolutely nothing has become the motif of me all of a sudden. This is my third pilgrimage now. Once, when all was lost. Second, when thought of love was found. And, finally, when hope reigned me in after thinking all was lost.
Of course, I am still that same old. It has been years long now since the first. I had to convince myself how terribly repetitive I really am. The joys of being mediocre at best.

Con gli occhi chiusi

If I could just draw luck and find another job before December, my anxiety would decrease tenfold. Tomorrow I have another registration with a new company. Hospitality and the same shit, over and over, again and again. Sick to death with a machination that clearly does not work to my favour, paining me with early terminations in a month or so, not even giving me any benefit of doubt. I am no asset to anyone, only to a rare few, and even then once my ooze sets in, no one dares to step in. I truly am alone. This realisation is the first time I have ever felt so isolated. Miriam clearly does not deserve me.
I fear for a future that my scarred self allows to happen. All I wanted was a place to call my own. But I am through and through a villain. Modern necessities share with me the desire to put myself above all others. Given the chance, I would see the world burn and left to snigger, eyes closed, no guns needed.
Behind closed doors, across distant worlds, day to night, I will retake the…