I know this sounds crazy but sometimes I want to take a razor blade…And I won’t tell you what I really want to do except that it involves shaving my head into a mohawk while fighting depression’s free-fall. It has very little to do with suicide and much to do with the freedom of shedding twenty-nine years of pain and I know this sounds mad but I want to run naked and screaming into downtown traffic at rush hour, red lights gridlock, everyone stopped, lanes of people on iPhones staring and taking pics. Because it got the world to pay attention to me.
I would trade all my sharp knives to live on the Hollywood set where I play a star crossed lover who became tabloid fodder. Where the colourless live through me vicariously.
I wanna be where you cannot escape me- my moniker is everywhere and everywhere you turn I’m gonna laugh the world away in a river of tears. I’m gonna build a yacht from popsicle sticks, gum wrappers, and pipe cleaners and row, row, row my boat gently over a fucking waterfall. Cuz I wanna be where the people dream.
I wanna watch the sun chase the moon away. I wanna go where the girls hold revolutions in their right hand and bring their lovers to their hips with their left. Where the wunderkin thrive burning like unkempt comets with peaceful hair.
I wanna be where there are certain truths I can’t acknowledge.
God taking respective aim, pinching to squint that one eye, the black hole that lives in the heart of our galaxy. Three easy steps on killing a cobra.
Primary colours. Mistaking gang signs for sign language.
Thieving the oxygen from forests.
Progress that has to come with so much killing.
Rain that brings no relief to the gutter.
The longing for all you’ve left behind – neither carcinogens nor pollution being the real cause of the headache.
There exists, a certain aspect ratio of possibility.
The encouragement to “think and release outside the box” is graciously received. The reprimand to color only “within the lines” of reality challenges my very duality. I am savvy that the two exist, battling for control of the stronger factor.
Both invisible yet so explicit.