Callooh callay oh frabjous day! I can hear again! When I speak, it no longer sounds to me as if I am underwater. When other people speak, I no longer have to invade their personal space in order to understand what they say.Music sounds like music should. Every sound in proportion, just like the creator intended. No longer am I subjected to having to hear my blood flow through my ear. The whoosh of my life blocking out sounds. I never realised how much I love hearing. Going deaf would be horrific. I can't imagine a world lacking music.
'You ever get that feeling? The one where you want to leave the material world and just go travelling with nothing. Just collecting languages and stories and telling them to all manner of people. Where you are tired to just living and working towards an undefined goal. This great, undefined thing that you just can't bring yourself to care about. You realise there may not be more to life, but you would just like to find that out for yourself rather than relying on other people. You know what I mean?''I like crayons.''Yeah. You know what I mean.'
He was staring at a bottle of beer. She had to ask.'Why are you staring at that?''As a test.' He said. 'It represents an oblivion. A cessation of all feelings and thoughs. A void which I can sink into where my screaming mind will finally settle down, become dormant. As soon as this passes my lips, I abandon myself in favour of a cold dullness. The pain, the constant, nagging pain will be gone.''So why don't you drink it?'He smiled.'Because it represents oblivion. I don't hurt so much that I'm willing to give up feeling.'
Oh my brother. How I have forsaken you. Your guilt is like nails blasting through my hands. Your sadness is a spear in my side and your words layer my head like thorns.I would die if it would make you feel better. Make it any easier for you to live your life and love and grow as tall as the cross.Know that I have risen again, to a new body, again. Whilst I am far from perfection, I no longer bleed from every pore. I'm looking for another angel to give me strength.Rise up, my brother.
Balls are interesting. School balls. Where you dress up. That sort of ball.A few of the females wore dresses that seemed to accentuate their boobs. I noticed this from a purely fashion perpective, of course.I like looking at people. The couples that walk together and do couple-y things because that's what couples are meant to do at a ball. Have pictures taken and grin too much and force intimacy upon each other.Then there are those cool kids who laugh too loudly and dance too frantically.Then there are the bitter and twisted ones on the sidelines.