scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

30.4.14

Sometimes i could barely see for the red and the black. If I had stomped my foot it would have raised a mushroom cloud, rings expanding. I saw 28 Days Later, ages ago, all those new-generation bloodbaths, and was afraid of those zombies (i call them zombies), that move too fast, that are so feral. I think now if one of them had touched me, come near me, it would have disintegrated of covetous want - i outranked them, i surpassed them, they were nothing next to me. I was a tower and a mountain and a vast, sheer cliff, and the cliff was my anger and i was the cliff and i stood on the cliff and the entire rest of the world was tiny, minuscule, ants in a hole compared to the old-world-glacier bulk of my rage. (The effect i am going for is that of being hit in the face with a steel beam, but that you keep consciousness.)

Other times i was sad - and i can't say i don't know why i was sad, i knew why i was sad, it is mind-numbingly obvious why i was sad - but there was no proximate cause, no immediately identifiable trigger, just this sudden tsunami of endless grief.

Labels: emptor

scrawled @ 15:49