Drowning out

She turns over, and growls. She can hardly move now, but i can see the fighting spirit left in her eyes. Is there nothing i can do?
It is dark now, and the night is starting to draw in, bringing with it the damp air, and that kind of shivery feeling that makes you want to wrap up and stay indoors. I can feel a slight itch way down on my leg, but reaching there is too much effort. Besides i want to keep my eyes on her, just incase she finds energy and makes a sudden move.
when its life or death you have to keep your wits about you.
I feel the ache of waiting and anticipation. I cant wait to be rid of her, but even though her life is ebbing away fast, she just keeps drawing breath. This isnt as easy as i thought it would be.
I remember the days when me and her would go for walks, talk, and even work together. She gave me somekind of stability, but now it seems she is the part i must kill off…. if only she would go.
She told me she was a nobody girl, that she was here to help. But after a while… well, like now, i just feel like im pulling her weight around, while she talks at me, jabbering on for hours. where our conversations would have been, is now filled with her screams and confessions, which drown out what ever i try to say. Its nothing.. there is nothing i can do.
Maybe its my punishment, to be stuck with her.

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Falling down. Standing up. What difference does it really make?
Whether you are trying or not life – one way or another – is still an effort.
There is still having to survive, alone if you have no connections and dependant if you have even one.
Despite our gifts and our abilities, we all end up as drained shells, whether we use our lives for better, or waste them in a haze of wasteful scandal.
Our families rarely live up to us, and we never live up to them.
We are on a different wavelength to everyone else at all times, despite our imagining that we have made a connection. Even on a most shallow level our minds are not as active as they could be and we don’t even use enough of our brain to completely live.
Imagine what we would be capable of…
Imagine what we could do. Just imagine it.
We could make life easy for ourselves, easier, maybe. Just by releasing that little extra potential.
If only we could get our hands on it.

Is there a way? No matter how much we open up our minds and prepare ourselves, is it possible that we could be able to deal with that amount of power? Even just as individual brain power? It is hard to imagine. I don’t suppose there is ever going to be a way where we could hope to unleash this power. No matter how hard we try, no matter how much we investigate, no matter how much we let go.
I don’t know. Am I being cynical? That is a distinct possibility.
I feel cynical, but at the same time I have this tinge of curiosity. A tinge of enthusiasm for knowledge. Yes, curiosity describes it.
The kind that killed the cat.

But I have been ignoring my company.
We sit on the grassy knoll. The grass is long but not long enough to be uncomfortable.
Occasional ants crawl across my legs, and I watch them peacefully, enjoying feeling so close to nature. It has been a long time since I have been able to sit outside, but the weather has just turned, and summer may be on its way.
We pulled my speakers closer to the window and as we sit and smoke we play records, digging out the old CD’s we haven’t heard in a while.
Summer does that to you.
You find all these old t-shirts you haven’t worn in a while and wear them,
even if you don’t like them, just because you can.
At least that’s what I find.
I can hear the faint click of an ignition as my neighbours attempt to light their barbeque, that has been lying dormant all winter, through rain and storm that has sat there in the corner, open to all kinds of abuse.
If only humans were as loyal.
Its best not to think of the grass heaving with life underneath us.

The way it heaves. Have you ever sat and just stayed still, stopping breathing even?
Just to remain silent. To observe, to absorb.
To try to unite with the throbbing of life that surrounds you.
But no matter how close you get, you never get there, because at the last minute your desperate lungs force you to take a sharp, loud breath, and rejoin your world again.
Your blind, lonely world.

The fact is that no matter what you go through, and no matter how it ends up, and no matter how desperately you believe you deserve to be happy – you never will be.
Even if you have all the tools to get there, the very opportunity, you will bail out and fall at the most critical moment.
You may walk around in the sunshine with your favourite dress on for a week, or a month, or a year. But you must know, in your heart that by the end of that time you will have stopped fooling yourself and accepted that you are going to hesitate and stamp your feet, and walk out and leave.

Every day vengeance seeks me out and kicks me in the chin, shattering pieces of my jaw up into my brain. The death isn’t quite as instant as I wish it was, because I still get a flash of you, even in death there is no escape. And when you were holding me and telling me it was never going to be the same, I knew I had to believe you. It was like a golden moment, where I felt I knew there was nothing more to do, no where else to go. The relief of knowing (maybe accepting) far outweighed the grief. In fact golden is a good word to describe the moment, because it literally was. My eyes were open for the first time. I let go, I forgot to breath anymore, and then I closed my eyes. There was no more to it, nothing more to hold on to. I was content to bury myself in the emptiness of the moment.

Maybe that’s what the goldenness was, content. I have never felt before.