Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Winter Chill


(sung) And I heard it in the wind. And I saw it in the sky. And I thought it was the end.

I’m terrified.

Because gritting my teeth is leading to red crevices between them, and I’m tasting more copper than I can afford, and every moment that eventually passes always feels like I’ve finally slipped into madness, like I’ve fallen off a horse into the waiting jaws of my own inadequacies.

Trapped in a moment in which subconscious suffocates. Feeling entirely naked, yet somehow still tripping over shoelaces

Ego falls from the sky, raining like a meteor shower, striking insecurities with pinpoint precision.

I’ve dug my nails so deep into my palms that I’m too stigmatic to hold a pen properly, psyche drawn and quartered, body stretched, tortured, and wracked with guilt for trying to make myself into a martyr.

 All I want to do is stand up, but my spine has been replaced with empty bullet casings, and with no powder to ignite, my powers seem limited to sitting and rusting, or collapsing in a heap of exhausted steel so cold you would never know it once knew what it meant to explode – to provide combustion enough to trust in thrust enough that I could pull away from the gravitational singularity that hides in my bed, keeping me hibernating my way closer and closer to death.

And I wish I could take comfort in knowing that I’m not alone, but this is an awful place to be, and my rage toward it grows with every new face I encounter within it. Every pistol-popped pill bottle, every Rembrandt-wristed knife-stroke, every Kurt Cobain post-script that signs our fates in brain and buckshot on the ceiling.

But maybe, just maybe, we can collectively link ourselves to a point of momentum – take the burden away from our palms, become the thrust keeping us up, and know that collectively, no mouth in existence is big enough to swallow us all.

Let us ignite with our fury, no matter which form it takes, let us be brilliant – because we are so god damned proficient at explaining our perceived uselessness, let us apply our own brand of logic to becoming a compass in the night sky, one which all our siblings can see.

So shine, damn you! Be the daylight in darkness that keeps our eyes open, and our beds at bay.

Shine! Because the brilliance you can hear in yourself is less illusion, more illumination, and all you need to do is open your eyes to let the light out.

Shine! Because we too easily forget that the darkened basements we've abandoned are the foundations upon which our lives have been built, and they deserve a good inspection.

Stand up and do this with me - shine in whatever way you do, and tell the sun that if it should ever burn out, we don't fucking need it!

Stand up and shine, and I will shine with you.

(sung) And I heard it in the wind. And I saw it in the sky. And I thought it was the end. I thought it was the 4th of July.

Let us shine. Because I will not go out in silence.

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