Sunday, 29 November 2009
You may die young
you may die old
you may commit suicide
stick a needle in your eyes
nail urself to a wall and cry urself to death
go to hell, I don't care
just leave me a dusty note book, a diary or even a worn out piece of cloth with some words written on...confess me ur deepest secrets...I don't care about ur sins
tell me which dream kept creeping around ur head
which sound never left ur ears
how a purple colour was born out of a brush dipped in red and blue
hit me in the face..shock me!
I'm the universe...the sky and the sea...do u think one day u will leave me...I'll hug u till I crack ur bones...leave me a couple of words I burn on my skin...write one more chapter that will convince me u outlived me!
Don't burn my forests...Just curve ur words on my trees!
Never think u'll run away...u'll turn to dust and what is dust anyway...is not dust my ground...are not the worms my worms...is it not my embrace that will coffin ur soul at the end!
Did u not share my days!
Did u not drink my coffee!
Did u not travel my lands!
Did I not shelter ur infidelities!
Did I not cover ur defects!
Did I not believe ur lies!
Convince me u haven't loved and lost!
tell me u like everything u see and u never want to change a bit!
Was it not one of my sons who said, "be the change u want to see in the world"
Did I not embrace him in my womb when he left?
But wait a minute, when did Ghandi leave?
yeah come on google it :)
Believe me, I know u better, u're lazy enough to google it!
lazy to leave something that would remind me u existed...lazy to give birth to some words that would carry ur name forever!
Let me shock u for once in ur life, u shall live and destroy my nature and then u shall make love with my worms and after u, ur sons will infamously damage my pride as once their parent did and they too shall be raped by my worms!
Ur name will vanish if u dared not keep it alive with a word or a brush, with a tune or song, with something more than being a doctor or an engineer!
Son of Adam, RISK and u shall outlive me forever!
"The Cancer I don't have is everywhere now"
"I am the beginning and the end of my own history book"
This note is not written for the emotionally frustrated people, it's actually written to the freaks who inhabit this planet!
So, if u think urself free from all the poisonous disorders that haunt the psyche of the human race, please get a piece of paper and note down every single weird thing that u think of or do in the dark and YOUTUBE IT!
don't worry there are lots of people like u and me!
We are the everyday cases..the ones u see in Oprah!..the ones who attend support groups..the sane and the insane!
We are the ones who cut themselves to feel the pain..to see the blood..the ones who long to be beaten to feel the pleasure of the pain!
The ones who feel the ravishing anguish of the ubnormal!
The morning army of God and the evening street brats!
We are the masochistic children of fate!
U secretly long for a relationship..but u just can't lay down ur defenses and approve of any relationship at the same time..because u feel that it's so normal..the passion is not tempting..the mentality is not haunting...the sexuality is not banging!
And u can't tell ur parents..They'll think u're a freak!!!!
We are the egocentrics that lack self-confidence!
We paint our narcissism with a bloody crimson brush on the walls of destiny, while secretly we don't believe in ourselves!
We lack the courage to stand up and say:
I pull my hair
I pick my skin
I watch porn
I cut myself
I eat and throw up
I repress my desires
Those are not my thoughts..those are the echoes of a sick world!
I've been pulling my hair for 14 years and I dared not speak..But I am not alone..I pulled my hair with the same hand I wrote and painted with!
We destroy ourselves with the same means we use to create!
Invention comes from the womb of disillusion!
I thought the WORLD must speak NOW!
We are more than just the hair on our heads..than the skin we pick..than the porn we watch..than the self-confidence we lost facing the UNIVERSE!
It is all about [appearance verses reality], Why are we so ashamed to say that we are the monsters of Frankenstein, Nabokov's Lolita, Kafka's Joseph K!
Why are we scared to say that we are the outsiders who dare to live behind closed doors!
We all suffer disorders, we never dare to mention. We are the victims and the seducers at the same time.
We call ourselves perfectionist and we really are!
Part of our perfection is that we must lack something..we must be traumatised by a certain disorder that keeps our minds active trying to solve our invisible universal cancer!..else we're complete..we'll need nothing..we'll reach nothing..then..WE'RE USELESS...WE'RE IMPERFECT!
Being complete does not mean we are perfect!
"Les cris de la terre" or the cries of the earth are mostly heard at night..when we torment..lament..suffer..ravish our souls and disseminate our traumatic larvas to impregnate Mother Nature with more deformed legends!
HAIL THE DEFORMED PERFECTIONISTS!
This note was written by a Trichotillomaniac who suffered from pulling her hair for 14 years (since she was 9 years of age, when Egypt didn't know anything about such a disorder and still doesn't!) and was recently cured and became a PULL-FREE by reading and diagnosing her case for 7 successful years through the Internet!
It was written by Me,
20 November 2009