She sat listening to the music. It was a symphony of triumph. The notes flowed up, they spoke of rising and they were the rising itself, they were the essence and the form of upward motion, they seemed to embody every human act and thought that had ascent as its motive. It was a sunburst of sound, breaking out of hiding and spreading open. It had the freedom of release and the tension of purpose. It swept space clean, and left nothing but the joy of an unobstructed effort. Only a faint echo within the sounds spoke of that from which the music had escaped, but spoke in laughing astonishment at the discovery that there was no ugliness or pain, and there never had to be. It was the song of an immense deliverance.”
The rain shatters violently against my umbrella. It reminds me of the breath of God when he whispered in my ear what to do, but I forget this sound a long time ago, now, I only remember the cries of the generals, soldiers, cries of pain, I forget the sweet sound of my master, the beat of my wings, rubbing against each other, the silence, the wind striking against the soft clouds of cotton.
I’m just an eternal being, a fallen angel, sitting on a bench, watching the world go by. I imagine their lives, some happy, some not. I fthink i will stay a little longer. The rain is cold and the wind a bit austere but it doesn’t matter.
Life seems to me long and hard, life certainly is, unless it is I who am become abrupt with time.
One last cigarette and I go.
My hands shake, the wind does not assist me. The smoke burns my nostrils, but not as much as the stench of death that gnaws in me for years.
It burns slowly, the fateful moment approaches, I’m afraid to go back, but I’m afraid it’s the only place where I belong.
the cigarette is finally finished, it seemed too short. A little flick and the butt end is the trunk. I breathe one time, I take my box of pills. Twice a first cacheton to sleep. Three times, two others to dream. Four times, and last for eternity.
Passersby are only vague shapes, buildings blocks of color indescribable. I tell myself that I will perhaps not have, and then all grew dark, I can not see anything. Only my breath loud and raucous sounds in my head, but it runs out of steam, it is weakening slowly but surely.
I get up I hear the umbrella falls against the concrete, the sound resonates in my head, my ears will explode. I continue to walk, I do not know where I am.
My heart stopped for nearly ten seconds, the sound of horn sounded, surely a car about to hit me. The front bumper breaks my chest. My elbow broke the windshield. The pieces of glass slashed my arms. The trunk is too hard on my shoulders. My head hits the pavement. The headlights away: the driver does not stop. The opposite would have surprised. I can not get up. I try but I fall back at once. My legs are shaking and my arms betray me.
For thirty seconds it stopped, I feel I feel a hand caressing my cheek but it’s my skin torn and bleeding against the floor.
Thirty-five seconds, I believe that I have more time to … to …
And as we sat there listening to the carolers, I wanted to tell him it was over now and everything would be okay. But that was a lie, plus, I couldn’t speak anyway. I wish there was some way for us to go back and undo the past. But there wasn’t. There was nothing we could do. So I just stayed silent and trying to telepathically communicate how sorry I was about what had happened. And I thought of all the grief and sadness and fucked up suffering in the world, and it made me want to escape. I wished with all my heart that we could just leave this world behind. Rise like two angels in the night and magically… disappear.
If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?
- Lewis Caroll