agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ Escapism
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-01-10 | |
yeah, break away. stop enjoying it and just laugh.
it's morning, all the rest can wait, everything else has to begin. i start writing here. how is your life today? are you still managing that smile? are they starting to see thru the cracks? only you know the stakes. or you might have something up your sleeve. the aces never fall. or else. the player would die. this holds no interest to anyone. only to you. i should not want to tell you other words. i should not have begun to wait. yet i did, yet i do. this silent room is my cell. everything else is sound. frequencies and vibrations. are you still listening in? we realized the scar only when the wound stopped healing. so, the scartissue was never to be visible. i guarantee a perfect match. we cry. it's just that the machines will never stop their dreadful humming. we shall grow acustomed to it. tomorrow, it's jail-break. you wanna die with me? the guards always win. the hunters always take their prey. we stand no chance. they'll be sure not to miss when they fire their guns at us. nevertheless, you know, it is our only chance to come alive out of all this. i laugh at the morons disputing wealth, land and greed. there is nothing more pathetic. "the warrior" is a degenerated concept. inteligent citizens smile and walk away. the shops are busy making a business out of selling things we don't need. may i walk away, now? and how could she feel all that? i was amazed. up till now i was just playing a drama. yeah, theatre is so "smart". a walking cliche. still, she cried, she bled and i just read the lines. i have only myself to forgive. all the rage was against myself. the sounds are coming in at an incredible speed. i cannot understand them all. she is my love for she made me see the lie that i was. i want to be the truth that i can be. i'm tired of having to go that same road on and on. i didn't even chose it. i hope you'll believe my excuse. i hope i haven't misspelled... or misjudged. i know they would be watching and grading. oh, how i hate this. there is nothing left to purity. or, is that concept degenerated too?! yes sir, how may i help you? i do not know, said the man, i do not know why i'm here. that's just a scenario. don't panic. try falling asleep. tomorrow... tomorrow is another (busy) day. we should all buy lawyers. (we never read the fine print)
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy