The stars continue to fluster may I come into your view? The soul looks dark tonight But the mind looks bright today A child is born but never birthed The produce, the milk of the universal radiation The microwaves wash me of doubt they wash me of happiness The power to fall has been realised White has now found black My eyes see now instead of my thoughts The artist's imagination blocks his intuition To create he must become free To succeed he must learn how to be
I want power -- Not over others, To want to see the power within. Potential actualized. The power to work. The power to dream. The power to concentrate. The power to assert oneself. The commander hides within We charge when our backs are against the wall The animal screams and we curse. Through crisis I am energized, The demons call when the angels fail. Underrate me, See what happens. A fire will consume you, and I shall be the catalyst. The monster that lights the match, A fire of pure fucking rage.
I'm at the ready my sword is sheathed. You want war? Come get it. Push me into the battlezone I will eat you alive. The wolves shall starve tonight.
(Mars, God of Rage)
I’m not a bad guy. I don’t rub people the wrong way. I usually try to be nice to people but sometimes they push me, even when they know they shouldn’t. I tried to have a nice day, but she just poked… and poked, and poked, and poked again, and again… until I lost it.
“Ugh! Haha lol”
“Another day at work and I still don’t have a paycheck to show for it…”
“Ha! Tell me about it bro, I’m still praying anytime I tap my card to get a fucking bagel!”
“Yeah! Last thyme I saw toe-st for 3 pounds and I was lyke: errr no?… Hahaha”
“..But anyways, I was thinking we could maybe get some drinks after work. What you guys thinking?”
“HAHAHA YOU JUST TALKED ABOUT BEING POOR YOU PRICK”
“Yeah but I ain’t broke”
“I mean… I don’t mynd…”
“Nah bro, I’ve got uni tomorrow and my lecturer is already on my arse about handing in my dissertation.”
“Oh come on mann…”
“Nahhhh, I can’t.”
“Is it due in tomorrow?”
“THEN why are you worrying? It’s just a few drinks. COME ONN. Pleeeeease, I’m SOO Boredddd, URGH!”
“I don’t know… Maria are you going?..”
“I’ll goe if you goe”
“*sigh*… okay I’ll come…”
“YESSSS!!! Trust me, you won’t regret it ”
I said it with a smile.
“Whatever, can you just go back to your section…”
Turner rolled his eyes.
“Why? it’s a nice day. The sun’s out.”
“So you can do your job?…”
“There’s nobody here!”
“So go do some pot wash then..”
“I’ll get it done! You know I can do it, just let me be..”
“What? No. I want to go home on time, ____”
“You know what I mean…”
He turned to Maria, eyes enlarging,
“Oh for fuck sake, don’t give me this bullshit again — I GET MY JOB DONE!”
“Okay whatever man, just go clean.”
“Nah fam I’m tryna chill.”
“Bro you know if Marsda finds you like this, she’ll kill you. I’m only trying to keep you from being fired…”
“Yeh ____ eet’s not good to bee hear, becoz if Marsda finds you hēre she will get you in traball”
“Urgh, whatever. There’s customers walking towards us anyways”
“____, stop talking.”
“I was just talk–“
“Stop talking, cook faster.”
Marsda was here.
Time passes by.
“Are you deaf?!”
“____, the customer is waiting!”
WAIT FOR FUCK SAKE! IT’S NOT GONNA COME OUT OF THIN AIR! IF YOU WANT IT THEN YOU CAN MAKE IT, FUUCK!
“____, you don’t get to talk to me like that..”
“I can have you reported you know!”
She comes in and takes over,
I tighten my lips, seething in rage.
She finishes and returns to the customer.
“Sorry about that, he’s just slow.”
I clench my fists and fill with acid.
The store quitens.
Manager starts talking with employees.
I clean meanwhile.
Manager goes downstairs.
Brushing past me in a passively-agressive fashion.
Store stays quiet.
I talk to friends.
Manager comes back.
Sees me in a good mood.
Starts shouting at me.
I walk away.
“____, come here.”
I give her the benefit of a doubt.
She bollocks me.
“You do NOTHING!”
“You don’t know NOTHING!”
I tell her:
“NO IT’S NOT.”
She won’t stop.
I tell her: Okay.
She won’t stop.
I breathe in harder.
My eyes roll and my jaw locks in.
My nostrils flare.
She pokes me in my chest.
She’s poking the bear.
I tell her to stop it.
She pokes me again.
I tell her to stop.
She doesn’t stop.
I walk away.
She grabs my arm.
I knock her front teeth out.
Her noise fades, I only hear white noise.
No sound, I can’t see.
I can’t hear her screaming.
Perpetrator statement – During incident (Describing CCTV footage(inaudible) between 16:37:52 and 16:54:56:
A mindless rage swept ash into my eyes, flashing white light – reflected from the chrome kitchen tabletops, only to undress my vision to the rushing blood beneath my eyelids, then black. My mind evaporated and all that was left was the steam venting out of my nostrils. I pounced at the bitch, reaching for her neck – grabbing at it like a champagne bottle, only to land sitting on her pillow-of-a stomach, soft like a marshmellow, perfect to rest on as I tightened my grip on her neck, twisting the dry skin of my palms against her thyroid like a salt-shaker. Grinding, grazing and warping the thin skin above her airway. I switched to quick striking then clawing at the flesh on her eyelids, screetching and scratching, fueled by vengence and a fire of pure fucking hatred. I didn’t stop, I didn’t want to – I was enjoying it, laughing. My nails collected the freckles of her face only to dip them back into her bloody scars again and again and again. It was like mulling wine. Excavating, each scrape scratched off a layer of her forehead and the dead skin between. Then SMASH! SMASH! SMASH! I pummelled her head in with my fist like a dirty wrench, turning her head into potato mash with a vermillion gravy dressing on the side. I heard nothing but radio noise. I could feel my chuckles gear up laughter from the pit of my diaphragm. Like daggers, I set my teeth into her neck popping her veins like a balloon. It was all too good for me. I could feel her kicking and screaming but to no avail. I wanted to kill her and once I started, I would end it. Two minutes could only be so long. I guess they were right: Time goes fast when you’re having fun. The more she kicked and pushed, the closer she was to losing it. With blood in my teeth and spread across my face, I would continue by taking my two thumbs and pushing them into her windpipes. It was like playdoh but crunchier. She screamed trying to claw me off but I would only elbow her to keep her down, by then everytime she’d gasp for air her own blood would drip into her open mouth from my face, salted with my sweat as I hanged over her. She was reaching climax. I had won and she would only start fade but I would keep going, eating like an animal. Her blood was horrible, marroon, chunky; fat and tar. It had some grit to it between my teeth. By then I got what I wanted so I whipped my head back, pulling her by the strings of her hair, hold then BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, B… like cracking an egg. Bashing her cerebellum, I would not rest until I had broken to her gooey core. So I WHACKED AND WHACKED AND WHACKED her head against the cheap concrete floor until I saw red yolk run across the surface. She was just gurgling, choking on her own blood. The shock had caused her to seizure. She clinched onto my shirt with all she had left for one last grasp before slowly releasing, thus shivering uncrontronably. But I kept going and then 1, 2 , CUR- RACK!. It was over.
So much violence, so much bloodshed, over. What a show. It was done. The rage that consumed me had taken her, now all that was left was to wait for the vultures. Its so funny how rage warms you, more than love, heating you from cold nothing and absolutely filling you. A momentary lapse of reason, momentary. The heat from my head had drifted and as my heart rate slowed down I started to feel the cold of my finger tips. I looked down. Suddenly my eyes widened, muscles tightened and stomach plunged dowwwwwwwwwn. I leaped back in a state of fear, shock and disbelief. Backed into the mini fridge I cowered, “no… no.. no… no.. no.. nonononono…” and started crying, rocking backwards and forwards holding onto my knees with my head tucked in between. I didn’t even want to look. I could sense the ambience of the room and the fear that gripped my coworkers and the customers. My heart had never beated so fast. I knew what I had done. I didn’t want to believe it. I knew what it meant. I knew there was no escape – only witnesses. I looked down at my toes and saw the blood flowing under the soles of my shoes. I knew what I had done to the rest of my life. I cried even harder, crying like a child with veins popping out of my neck, sobbing. I watched the tears splash on the floor, streaming from my eyes down to my lips, mixing with the mucus and saliva that hanged there aswell. I looked up to see wide open eyes and people turned blue. I could only mutter “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry” before I tucked my head back in. Then 5 seconds later I heard heavy boots against the shop floor — running in my direction saying, “GET DOWN! GET YOUR HANDS UP! GET DOWN ON THE FUCKING GROUND!”. It was done and I was over. The vultures were here for me, not her. After everything was done and the smoke had cleared I knew, I was done.
Should we rid of the sun because, it culti-vates shadows? Should the light burn on, if it only makes darkness? The star that burns brightest has nothing to hide. And in that nothing, breeds darkness that haunts us.
Help me let go of you. I can’t let go, it’s not a need for you but something I can’t explain. A phenomena. I’m into you and I don’t care what you say, I know you’re into me. Maybe your interest in me has faded but mine hasn’t. It may go into the depths of my consciousness but it’s still there. I don’t know why. It’s not usually this hard. I forget people all the time but you seem to pop up when I don’t even want you to. I want to say I love you but I don’t think Iit’s that. It’s too easy. I can’t say I don’t love you but that’s not the answer I need. I would love to chase this fantasy with you. Us together would probably end in a trainwreck but the journey would probably be great. Why the fuck are we not together?
I don’t want to push my desperation onto you but it if it makes you feel better, it’s probably from just working in isolation too much. But also you’re wise to a degree. When I realised you’re smart my Annya-dream-count doubled in frequency. You’re so much more than what I see on your instagram, you’re so much more than your abundance of silence during our phone calls – at least to me. You’re something worth caring about to me in a world where I think everything is bullshit. I’m writing this letter because I need to be able to either hold you or drop you but I can’t live in the limbo of my heart’s desires, I just can’t. I don’t want you to lose someone who can give you what you need in life and I don’t want to lose someone who I actually feel someone who I actually feel something for; and don’t tell me we can be friends because even as friends, I’ve lost you. Following each other on insta, seeing each other’s photos but not speaking for months or years, semi-awkward random encounters on Oxford Street that last 5 seconds and end with “We should meet up sometime.” even though we won’t. That’s what friendship is now, that’s what losing each other would look like.
I don’t want that, I want you. I don’t want to want you but I do. Help me help you. If you still don’t see or feel something after this then so be it. I’ll never hate you but I’d be regretful if I never got to love you.
Take care Annya,
think about it and stay in touch.
The river flows,
and in it
comes violence of the sea -
washing down the stones
and washing down the dirt.
My mind is a storm
Clapping and bashing against itself
Turbulent, carrying away men that enter
My soul is the depths
Pushed beneath the surface
and the body I own is the earth that holds it
My words are the tides
and my thoughts are the sea salt
Giving life to all beasts hiding within me.
Purge me lord
my stomach is empty.
It's only a matter of time
before my heart does the same.
I can hear them
Why is it wrong to be quiet?
Why is it?
Is there a problem?
It's just quiet.
But yet we watch talk shows to hear celebrities talk and poor people laugh
They don't stop
I know they don’t,
Searching for the next joke
The audience almost coughing
gasping for air
strangled by social pressures to not hurt anyone’s feelings
or get in the way so
Crying but with smiles
As if held down and tickled against their will
Tortured by their own biological systems,
I can feel it through my ears
The pain and the tickles
Their diaphragms like windbags
Their arseholes tight like a gun cocked
At the ready they'll fill the room with hysterical laughter and a metaphorical bang
All targeted at the host with hoots, hollers and metaphorical bullets
All because of an actor’s charming recount of forgetting their keys and wallet at home.
Like charms that ward of evil spirits
Like screams that ward off room for thought
The awkward smiles attempt to ward off any returns
The privilege to think is now an inconvenience
So we kill our brains to be able to get on with our days 🙂
Fuck being happy,
We have work tomorrow.