Not sure what this is meant to be, but have a read if you like

quincyk

ta.:)



It's nothing basically. Just a few images, thoughts and ideas flung together.

Die. Stop what you're doing and cease to exist. Fall to the ground, crawl into a ball, flutter your eyes and count as each organ within your entire frame stirs, flanked by years of aging and existence, fights, stutters and fails. A thousand goodbyes. Every prayer has remained undelivered, every hope burnt to an ember, its smoke breezing your dreams into the deep, muggy air. Dreams- of Solice. Panic. Mayhem. Settled life by a calm shore. Reading books on a bench in a small Italian resort. Anything but this.

Has it happened yet?


Now wake. Stand up. You don't need to breath. You don't need blood flowing anywhere. Walk. Everywhere, walk. Become. Something different, something new. Change everything. Burn your house down, ensure you add all photographs to the mix. Lie down on a road, feel at home. Hope that it rains. When it does, walk for a lifetime. Climb a willow tree, make sure someone sees you. Climb down and roll around. Push a shopping-cart to the edge of a cliff, curse it and throw it out into thin air. Make a wish. Make another that first will never come true.

Has it happened yet?


Spend money on becoming smarter than all your friends. Use money and all of your time to be everything you ever want, so that everyone will hate you. Become a doctor, and diagnose your family with illnesses they don't have. Convince them of their mental disorder, so much so that suicide will be their only option to carry on. Become a funeral director and bury them with prayers. Regret nothing, but live on in guilt. Resurrect them in paintings on your walls. Tear them down, sell them to strangers and forget. The paintings and them.

Has it happened yet?


Before throwing your tv set out your window and through your neighbours, switch it on. Watch the world go by through luminous pictures on charded glass. This is living through someone elses clothes. Beating through a different heart. Deserting your own life, stealing a portion off someone elses gold plate and eating it with a silver spoon. Buy everything advertised in
infomericals, even if they will slowly help you to die. Take a risk. **** it, take one hundred so long as they're on offer at half-price. Use your thumb, change the station. Watch the distorted fuzz of static on a station already dead or maybe not even born. It's been there since the big-bang, and will be there long after the dust settles. Stand up, and walk away......



Has it happened yet?

Matt Holck

very poetic frustration

if we keep looking for the big picture,
our size diminishes to nothing