The Champion Rat

I crawl on my belly as fast as I can. I'm trying to feed myself with the dust which was stirred by the feet of those who have left me behind in the rat race. I witness dark clouds overwhelm the skies.

The torrential rains wipe away all the footprints and leave me bereft of the grim comfort of following the beaten track. The downpour lasts for what seems a lifetime. But when it clears, I look all around and grin, when I see that rats really can't swim.

Need I repeat that even if you win the rat race, you are still a rat at the end of the game?

I Believe I Must Die

I believe that I must die. It is important to do that now. There is too much going on. There is too little sleep. There is too little time for myself. There is too little of myself to make time for.

What would be enough to get started would be to first end it all. I shall slit my wrists, but only with a blunt axe. So that my manicured hands can start to look more natural again. I shall bleed ever so slowly, and the muddy mundaneness of my life will be washed away by the vibrancy of my blood.

I shall be remembered by those around me as the bubbling effervescence of depressive reality. I believe that I must die. And I must do as I believe. Only by my death will I assert the vivacity of my chilling existence.

The Coffee Mug

I saw a new born baby with wild hyenas all around it. I met a young child wailing beside a dead puppy. I saw guns in the hands of the young, and hatred in the hearts of the old.

I heard a hundred children singing and nobody listening. I heard a thousand people starving, and ten thousand laughing. I heard the jester crying in the shadows, and the song of a poet dying in the gutters.

I met one man who was wounded in love,I met another man wearing a bleeding glove. I'll swim to the depths of the deepest lake,where the assassin's face will always be well hidden. The harsh notes of the coffee mug stirring, and I wake to a reality worse than my wildest nightmare.