Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Entry #34

Moebius
by Canterbury Soul


It’s 10.33 a.m.

I saunter into the kitchen. I stand up.

The end.

It is finished. I’m liberated, irrevocably.

It has been a protracted decision to do it; utterly iniquitous to myself. Vertigo has no meaning now. Sensation is found wanting at my limps. This is it.

In a fraction of a second, I am on top. 40 months of weight-training has primed me for this. I tighten my grasp on the grills.

Please, Lord, help me with my final impetus. I stare at the dishes and make my wishes. I’m now literally on my knees, if you can still spot them. I snigger again. Again the nerve tries to wreck me with pain. The skin just tears. Not as smooth, ’cos it has the v-edges. I pick up another piece and slit across the right one.

I chortle and cast it aside. The nerve tries to wreck me with the weapon, pain. The cut is clean albeit the trace of fluid has flourished. This piece’s appetite has been whetted over a long period and it shows. Almost instantly, my hand swiftly severs the left one.

I need to draw strength from you, Lord, please. I stare at the dishes and make my wishes again. The mind is acting up again. I pick up the pieces and begin to quiver. Please, Lord, give me the courage to complete my task. I stare at the dishes and make my wishes.

I saunter into the kitchen. I stand up.

It’s 10.33 a.m.

14 comments:

Joni said...

Umm, sorry, you've lost me.

Can someone explain it to me?

I'm usually pretty down with abstract, but this one really isn't connecting.

Anonymous said...

Somebody dreaming about suicide? Shades of "Groundhog Day". Sorry, author, this one leaves me feeling kinda lost.

Scott said...

I was hoping to have it explained in the comments myself. I'm a little lost too.

Nope. Read it again and still don't get it. Is this poetry. At first I thought it was someone in prison, escaping, just below a grate that takes a gargantuan effort to life. Probably too literal. Sorry, I just don't get it.

Anonymous said...

Just a friendly visit from your host. :) Feedback is priceless, but please keep it positive and supportive.

Anonymous said...

I apologise to have made you feel lost.

I like to see the world from different angles, hence, the protagonist's reversed view of his tortured last hour of his life.

Thanks for the invaluable feedback!

Pallav said...

Sweet...interesting read. :)


I get you man, i get you ;)


N

Anonymous said...

Thanks you very much, Nothingman!

Scott said...

I should have phrased my comments differently. What I should have asked for was some help to understand. The writing is wonderful, and like poetry, evokes images, even if I don't understand the message. Sorry I wasn't more supportive.

Joni said...

I apologize as well if my comment seemed negative.

I'm intrigued by the words and was hoping someone would help me put together any obvious connections my brain wasn't making.

The writing itself is very good and definite points for originality.

heather said...

i too am lost. but i enjoy it for some reason. i keep coming back to this to re-read it, even thought of it at work tonight. the thing of it is, is that i know it's there just below the surface, i just can't see it cause of the ripples. (the meaning that is)

Unknown said...

I liked this treatment CS, it has captured those final, distracted, tortured moments of this person's suicide.
I thank the higher powers that we do not all write in exactly the same way, that we are still free to explore our varied styles and examine our individual interpretations freely. The writing world would be a very dull place without explorers!

Esther Avila said...

interesting piece, canterbury soul. suicide. very disturbing. you got that across quite well.

Anonymous said...

Thank you, Esther and Minx!

Anonymous said...

For me, it felt like whirling thoughts trying to pump someone up to commit suicide. It seems to leave open whether the protagonist actually does it. "...dishes and make my wishes" is oddly alluring.

High marks for pacing and entertainment value.