International Writers Magazine: Flash Violence
all women have killed themselves. They grew tired of the world,
this world, our world. There are no women anymore. Everyone is gone,
no one can come back. Some things change ideals so radically. And
when they change, its hard to believe that there is anything
in this world called reason.
Out on the street
people are fighting. Someone died right in front of me. I went to a
club with my friend. People were staring at us, lining up in front of
the door. It was warm inside, people dancing everywhere.. the music
were filling our ears with hope and joy. Bought expensive beers and
kissed the people in line. Yelling so long to the floor and crashing
our bottles against the wall that said that the world was ours. We already
know that. But what world?
We know everything already, I cant stand your voices and complaining.
You dont understand that this is the world. This is what you gave
us; now it is our choice how we clean up your mess. Well anyway, we
moving to the music and watching people die. This
is the closest we can get to pure paradise. Is it bad to drink alone?
In that case, everyone in my sight is bad people. Outlaws and nobodies,
we all will fill this small room. Until someone decided to place a bomb
in the basement. That was a sound of pure violence. Dancing people turn
into running people; driven by their panic for survival and to just
get out of here.
Here where me and my friend are. We try to get out, but theres
no room for us. I stumble on a body thats been crushed by the
panic; the body isnt moving but I try to move it. But I cant.
I hear the sound of people running; its like a fast parade, everyones
moving in the same direction. But we cannot get out; my friend finds
a door and tries to open it. Splitter is falling down from the walls;
my friend gets it all over herself. I help her up and hits the door
that finally opens for us. We rush in and I shut the door; I shut the
sound of people in panic because I just cant stand it anymore.
We have to walk up, there are stairs but no exit so we continue walking
up, we just want to get out one way or another. We get to another door,
but we cannot open it. So we sit down and we wait. The sound of people
is fading away; I cant hear anything, everythings gone now.
Its just us two, watching each other and we smile to one another
because we are friends and friends smile and help each other. And I
start thinking about things that I havent thought about for years.
How I just left people and when I tried to come back I couldnt.
I had changed too much and they were just the same as I remembered them,
maybe that was the problem. But I tried so hard to be their friend again,
but it never happened. I really wanted all of us to be friends and hang
out and talk and laugh, but it never happened. And now it feels like
it never knew them, like all our memories have faded away. The dreams
and feelings that we once had have never existed; at least not for me.
I cant feel it anymore.
But I do remember things. I remember things I did and things I felt
and said. I remember that I did really like someone, and I remember
that everything turned into a mess. And thats why I left. And
when I open my eyes I see my friend lying on the floor; shes bleeding
from the splitter and I cant help her. I just watch her; shes
falling asleep now. I wonder that she is thinking, what she is remembering.
Maybe she thinks of me and all the things weve done together.
Or maybe she thinks of her mother whos sleeping at home, not knowing
whats going on here. But I think shes thinking about her
favourite book. It will help her, I will tell her that I promise you,
I will tell her that. I close my eyes again and I see my parents
house where I grew up. How I ran in the garden as a child and how I
tried to cut my wrists in bathroom as a teenager. But it didnt
work so I swallowed some pills and drank some wine. I didnt want
to kill myself, I was just curious. And how I felt safe and loved. Thats
what I think about now. When I opened my eyes my friend was asleep.
But I saw the blood and I knew what had happened. So I just took her
hand and waited for someone to open the door. I wonder what shes
thinking about now. I dont know what Im thinking about anymore.
Maybe I should think about something. Maybe I should think about...
I remember writing. Best things in life, the best things Ive experienced
is sitting in a bright room, filled with light, hearing someone talking
about anything, and just write the first things that come into my mind.
Yes, I remember that.
Wild form I wanna say everything about anything I wanna touch everything
and nothing I want to taste the experience I want to taste the familiar
I want to taste you I want to taste me is there a delivery of some sort
and can I feel that the air is filled with something new there is a
struggle between the madness and the dead and there will be a fight
between generations who can say everything about nothing and who sit
comfortable staring right at the sun
Will end everything so maybe there is no need for us to think to laugh
to hate to love phrasing painting putting our emotions where everyone
can feel them touch them take them and destroy them.
The presence of a world the world our world we must discover its
neither one thing nor another pure intuition. It became my way of life.
Never loose the energy but whos carrying my energy if I leave
and does my mind have energy of its own I cannot tell anymore I cannot
see how the fragments are held together by someone anyone living in
the complete actual presence.
I want you to go down on your knees so it is finished thickening the
meaning so the body can hurt from the inside slowly fading away and
maybe someone will find you by the lake when the others went to dinner
and you say that youve never felt better in your life .
Hahahahahha youve never felt better in your life.
Is it fascinating that you now have learnt to appreciate the nothingness
in life and you still long for the exotic other world inconsistency
vessels of eternity life is cursed undeniably familiar maximum pleasure
how can you question your way of living when you never do anything to
change it weakness and boredom fear of boredom no responsibility permanent
possessions the way things are as we stand along the line I want you
to go down on your knees I want you to go down on your knees.
Good thing about some countries is that it is so easy to get what you
want. If you have money and youre a good liar you can get anything.
That is violence. But its tastes so good and its so hard
to not touch it. I need to touch it, I need to use it. Went to a doctor
and said I thought I was going mad so she prescribed Xanax and another
antidepressant. I went home and put the three boxes neatly on my desk,
sat in front at looked at them. I could kill myself tonight I thought.
I cant keep them here in my room because if I come home on night,
drunk and depressed, I know that I will take them and I will regret
it the morning after but then it will be too late. So I could sell them
as drugs; I could probably get some money from that. Yeah, I would.
But I wouldnt do that would I? No, Im a moral and good person;
I would never want to hurt anyone. I cant keep them here. So I
threw them in the garbage and locked myself in my room until I heard
the garbage truck come. Its too easy. Its not fun anymore.
Everyone wants to be mad or eat antidepressants. Its a bizarre
world. And you people just continue without reflection and you say that
you rule the world. Its disgusting. Im ashamed of being
part of this world, this society. No wonder people are killing themselves.
I wish that you could look at yourself but - but you will never get
Marlais December 2008
Life Moments in Dreamscapes
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