Author's Signature

    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
View Profile

free web hit counter

Visitors

Enter your Email



Archives


Tapping at my chamber door




« Home | And so he writes... » | Is that enough? » | How much for the nuclear head? » | Pride! with an exclamation point » | Why Erhaby? » | The blue state; and the countdown begins » | Ladies and gentlemen, I give you George Galloway » | A desert road from Vegas to nowhere » | My stained, chalk-outlined home » | Worthless to remember »

149.6 million KM away

You're melting.

You can't stand the heat. Your brain is boiling. Your hands are soaking and you're drowning in your own sweat. Your precious and unique genes are deforming into a melting monster. The earth is detouring off its axis and now heads towards the light, the hope cliché; the sun, the center of it all. Incredibly annoying you're sweating all over the room. You need to quench your thirst but you fear drinking as you fear more sweat. You'd rather dehydrate and die dry. The more you shower the more you melt. You can not stand the heat. The fan you own propels like there's no tomorrow, moving hot air around the room, expanding the heat zone; the anticipation of hell. You're boiled chicken. Ironically, you've become healthy food. Everything's surreal now. You're melting. You're a Dali painting and you demand to be sketched out for remembrance. Dehydrate you silly bastard, divert off your fears and worries. A melting body is by far more convenient than a melting mind. Melt away you sad fuck. You can't escape the heat. Your eyes blur out the surrounding life you've held up proudly. You're decomposing. The ants are coming. You can't run; your legs are liquefying. You can crawl, but you wind up leaving bits and pieces of your melting shades of a body behind. Dissolve like a chemical reaction of a formula you've been preparing in your secret lab for the past 25 years. You miss the winter; you're old, cold self. Newton was right. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Re-act you red, burning chick. Don't you dare pass out. Slap yourself. Wake up. Experience. Evaporate. Learn.


No, it won't go away. Your air-conditioner is getting repaired; your missed freedom.

you really need that ac ha? well i hope you don't melt away until then. maybe you should go and visit some friends till the or go and live in a hotel until it gets fixed. the only thing i can do to help is to send you some ice to cool yo down, but i think the ice would turn into a boiling water before it gets there ;)

Post a Comment

Links to this post

Create a Link










Toilet Paper


The Mood



Recently Judged


Lenore & more