Jocafer
01-12-2009, 09:44 AM
I stood up from my chair.
I'm in another evening. I haven't noticed it until I had the urge to step away from my computer and look outside my window. Besides the dim lighting in my house, I still see my reflection upon the glass that pictures the dark, shaded trees outside my veranda. Beautiful, like an artist's painting, even more I, a more rendered being. Such perfection, such divine proportion! Though trees are regarded as living, it's a question of whether they have a life.
I lost that life today.
I killed someone a day ago. Priscilla, yes, I can still remember her name even through this decrepit mind of mine. Of course, why not! Oh, such a beautiful name synonymous to that physique of hers! She was an eden in her twenties'. She used to be with me, play with me, have fun with me. Me, me, me. She was my life, MY everything. And...I thought she was thinking the same.
I knew deep inside me that she was seeing someone. It is like me in that glass window with her, except she isn't looking at me. I can see it in her eyes. It is as if I can see them burn like a candle when I look in them, though I was merely searching for myself in it. And as a burning candle should, it will shorten over time. The flames once ablaze in our bliss slowly drifted away. And then I,
I thought...
I'm hers, she's mine. Nobody else can have her.
I was lost, she knew. But, that did not stop me. It seems as if I became more important than her. What am I to do if I will not have her? I will die. I will fade. She is MY life. I need her to live.
The never ending I! Ahh but such a wonderful and fascinating thing. It is the only letter that tells who you really are and what you really are. A singular being, a host perhaps, with every intention in action, wholesome or not, directed only towards the survival of itself.
But, alas it is too late.
Though her bloody body lay there in my bed, I will never really have her. Though her eyes connected to mine, she is still dead. It somehow haunts me that she may rise up from death and take my life as I sleep, to get even maybe? It does not matter. Now, I'm just like every other tree out there tonight seemingly drawn behind every other glass window, dark, shaded, and lifeless.
*Sigh* I have been thinking too much lately.
I retreated back to my chair.
I glanced back at my computer. I searched through a few stories the internet has to offer. I found one interesting piece. I read it until the bottom, and, what really caught my interest was at the end of the story. It only had one thing in it...
...I.
--------------------
comment if you will but please don't be harsh. its just my first time ^^,
comments? did i miss out on any words? i will gladly appreciate them.
I'm in another evening. I haven't noticed it until I had the urge to step away from my computer and look outside my window. Besides the dim lighting in my house, I still see my reflection upon the glass that pictures the dark, shaded trees outside my veranda. Beautiful, like an artist's painting, even more I, a more rendered being. Such perfection, such divine proportion! Though trees are regarded as living, it's a question of whether they have a life.
I lost that life today.
I killed someone a day ago. Priscilla, yes, I can still remember her name even through this decrepit mind of mine. Of course, why not! Oh, such a beautiful name synonymous to that physique of hers! She was an eden in her twenties'. She used to be with me, play with me, have fun with me. Me, me, me. She was my life, MY everything. And...I thought she was thinking the same.
I knew deep inside me that she was seeing someone. It is like me in that glass window with her, except she isn't looking at me. I can see it in her eyes. It is as if I can see them burn like a candle when I look in them, though I was merely searching for myself in it. And as a burning candle should, it will shorten over time. The flames once ablaze in our bliss slowly drifted away. And then I,
I thought...
I'm hers, she's mine. Nobody else can have her.
I was lost, she knew. But, that did not stop me. It seems as if I became more important than her. What am I to do if I will not have her? I will die. I will fade. She is MY life. I need her to live.
The never ending I! Ahh but such a wonderful and fascinating thing. It is the only letter that tells who you really are and what you really are. A singular being, a host perhaps, with every intention in action, wholesome or not, directed only towards the survival of itself.
But, alas it is too late.
Though her bloody body lay there in my bed, I will never really have her. Though her eyes connected to mine, she is still dead. It somehow haunts me that she may rise up from death and take my life as I sleep, to get even maybe? It does not matter. Now, I'm just like every other tree out there tonight seemingly drawn behind every other glass window, dark, shaded, and lifeless.
*Sigh* I have been thinking too much lately.
I retreated back to my chair.
I glanced back at my computer. I searched through a few stories the internet has to offer. I found one interesting piece. I read it until the bottom, and, what really caught my interest was at the end of the story. It only had one thing in it...
...I.
--------------------
comment if you will but please don't be harsh. its just my first time ^^,
comments? did i miss out on any words? i will gladly appreciate them.