Saturday, May 06, 2006

ranting and raging

It's close to the surface, now. It's close, but I don't feel depressed. I feel angry. I feel hostile. I want to take a pipe to the whole world. Fucking club the planet into the gutter and watch the blood drain into the sun. I want to knee the cosmos in the groin, and it's all I can do to not grab a handy substitute.

So close. Just under the skin. If I could flex just right, pull my skin just tight enough, it'd break through. Pain. A lifetime of pain, ripping free in blood-slick boneshards, black barbs and smouldering serrations.
Erupting through me, shredding this paltry vessel, more than a physical body could possibly hold. But something like this pain is not bound by physical constraints. The mainfestation of the pain unfolds like the blooming of a fractal flower, expanding impossibly- bone wings pinioned with rusted blades and charred rags unfurling and flexing around the thickening skeletal form beneath them.

The child of my psyche consumes me, just as I consume it- the pain and I are a closed loop, a Mobius Strip. The pain breaking loose creates more pain, which I feed back into the furnace, stoking the eruption still further.

In the end, the only thing that troubles me about this venting of vitriol is that, while it lessen the pressure some small bit, it is not a release. There has only ever been one release.


Jeff & Chris said...

Only one release huh? So many things come to mind that there can't only be one. I hope drinks on the patio helped or maybe is the "one"? As tormented as the rant sounds I gota say it was VERY well written. Dude you should write more. I doubt that writing is the "one" but it sure helps explain how fucked up your head is!

Antipaladin said...

No, the only possible escapes from one's self are madness and death.
I've tried drinking, I've tried drugs, I've tried sharing the pain around. They all generate more pain.

I'm already crazy, and I doubt I could get very much crazier. My ego wouldn't allow it, I think.

As I've said many times before- I'm not suicidal, I just want release.

My writing urges come in spurts. I haven't generated much prose in the last year, and it's been longer for poetry. I'm always happy to share, if anyone's interested.

Jeff & Chris said...

Think about this...Release implies some that after the fact you are aware of a change. In order to have a release you would have to be concious of the release. Death isn't a release from something while we are living it is the end. Or for some of the hopeful a change? I meant it when I said that a lot of things come to mind for "release". I know in your case you have tried most and other probably seem pointless (running through the daisies???) but maybe the search is a the least a good distraction.....just some of my thoughts on the subject...