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An Absence of Light

I recently got a very cheap car, so cheap that there’s only a CD player and there’s a limited amount of music I can listen to with my CD collection being as small as it is. I’ve been listening to the Modest Mouse album This is a Long Drive for Someone With Nothing To Think About. A line from the track ‘Ionizes & Atomizes’ inspired this.

I wake up damp, rays from the midday sun making me sweat.

it doesn’t seem right to call it sun.

A star with no name.

That’s better.

A long night, long forgotten, we still take off our shirts and show off our scars.

Remember when we wondered how flesh heals.

Hours spent staring at our hands. Spaced out. High.

I wake up into a dark night.

The moon is a right fancy mirror,

a bit too posh for us lot I think.

It doesn’t seem right – that lump of rock gets every ray of light it likes, while we, the hard working people are left to rot! In the darkness! There it is showing off its wares,

like the car headlights from next door waking us up again. And again.

Never able to get back to sleep, not Like before anyway.

Not much to do so we take off our shirts again, our scars are darker this time. Yet we don’t know why.

We were wrong about flesh, it never really heals does it.

I’m so lonely it hurts, people say that don’t they.

I can’t see past my birth, before then I was lonely I’m sure. I’m sure of it.

We’re supposed to be sad when we’re lonely, isn’t that the case

A sad little fetus, crying and the like.

Don’t cry no name, it’s not that bad out here.

Lonely little fetus. Isn’t it sad we’re born crying, as if we know what’s coming.

That’s how I got these scars, you know, the ones all over my chest.

Just like yours I know, but mine are older.

Pulled through the world, machines ripping at me.

New – ‘No More Scars!’

It never used to be like this, they say that as well.

Everything you need in the palm of your hand, ripping us to pieces slowly but surely.

It’s like music. I remember music.

Losing yourself in the rhythm until there’s nothing left to give, except it’s not like music at all.

Music made you feel alive, this just makes you sleep.

One long sleep until the inevitable.

That reminds me, it’s time to sleep again.

Until next time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Some previous musings

I found an old notebook of mine from when I was working an office job a couple of years ago. Here are a couple of the poems I wrote.

Waking up into this nightmare, hell is the world we accept as it is. Our minds wander and cannot be controlled, corporate punishment tames our dreams. Waking up into this nightmare, begging our owners to take us back to our endless sleep.

 

“Two time lost the second time it was harder to find two times lost my heart is in constant struggle with my mind. I wake up and feel myself fall behind me, to capture my being is harder the more I move on when will I collect these pieces and make myself whole?”

 

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