Hyperbolized fiction. A modern day sci-fi. Warm, hot, burning, melting to that static sound.
If you suddenly went deaf in New York City you would hear that static sound.
Of course, I know you wouldn’t hear anything. But the static sound is a feeling. Sounds like static – no ringing – you are so unsure of the difference you strain your ears for a little more. Please let me distinguish the two. Like your hands under cold water after playing in the snow. Burning freezing? No difference. Till suddenly you realize neither – just pressure – the static sound.
Separation. My deepest desire.
I don’t want to see or hear these people anymore. I don’t want their chit chat chatter. And I don’t want to fake smile-pretend I am okay-giggle about your joke about someone I don’t know – about what it is all about. Nothing.
When I say separation I mean death.
Not murder.
Not suicide.
Simply non existence. A sweet non existing peace. Like wax crayons over a fire. Melting, melting until no more. Just sweet sweet peace.
