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I had this feeling from the music
I had this feeling from the music when I was listening to something. It made me feel empty and alive.
And here is what I felt:
Do you ever feel such stress that you want to tear your hair from your own head? Ever feel like you're not understood?
Like the world keeps fucking spinning and it won't stop for you. You just want to slow down. Slow down so you have some time to be able to cry. Time to sort out how much money you have or don't have. Time to feel something other than what you are feeling now.
I was a step away from the grave in my mind.
I was there wondering about the me in the mirror of my reflection. She is me. I am her. We are each other's shadow.
She is the devil on my shoulder. Gun in hand. At once she blows my brains out. The bullet enters my skull. It spins through the temporal lobe and the hippocampus. Front to center then out the back into open air. Spinning through my memory. Contorting around that bullet and pulling.
You wake up in the afterlife. It's whatever color you imagine it could be. A white void maybe. Or everything is dark.
My shadow is there.
She is dead too. So, maybe she isn't the devil like I thought.
Oh, you’re in line. There is a nameless body ahead of you. Another appears behind you. Standing in single file. Locking you in your place. It’s a long line of dead people. And if you're brave enough to look.
They're all you.
I make it to the front desk. A lady stands there. It's me again. She asks for my heart, so I reach inside somewhere and yank it out, disgusted.
“Have at it wretch.”
I don't feel anything. In this space with my not-devil she-shadow. I float against the floor.
In front of you, they bring out an old movie player thing and begin making you relive your life on the big screen.
It's nothing new.
Boring, right?
Get a load of this.
Stupid you.
Can’t get anything accomplished.
Nothing right.
Good thing you died.
Right?
The film ends and I think they're done because that took so long and I think to myself that I should have ended it sooner. But no, they click a button and I see my family.
It's your funeral.
They're crying because you're dead. And someone is screaming. You see a friend who knew you. You see a teacher. An animal. An imprint of your existence.
Wailing into the night and long into the years after. This is the worst fucking horror movie I've ever seen.
My heart that is gone rattles my bones. I'm sick. But I need it back. I need to go home.
I turn to my strange shadow who is also me, my likeness. She recoils when I forgive her.
Your shadow screams at the other you to give the heart back. The undertaker is unsure. You give it back. Give it back and shove it in through the rib cage and it is alive.
You are fucking alive!
Gasp.
Gasping for breath. Your lungs burn. But isn't that pain welcome?
OPEN YOUR EYES
I am flat against dark and damp concrete. I realize I am not alone. There are many who feel like me. Many—like me—who have fallen and wonder if the world should pass them by.
You wonder if the world should forget you.
I don't think so.
It can’t forget you. You'll be living somewhere in someone's mind. In the minds of family or friends or animals or someone like me. Because you are like me.
You can hate yourself.
But I will not hate you.
You can hurt yourself too.
But I will not hurt you.
I've got scars that I've made myself.
And maybe you've got them too.
And we don't have to go.
Just hang on.
And if you let go.
I will hang on to you.
You’re not alone.
© SteelBlue
And here is what I felt:
Do you ever feel such stress that you want to tear your hair from your own head? Ever feel like you're not understood?
Like the world keeps fucking spinning and it won't stop for you. You just want to slow down. Slow down so you have some time to be able to cry. Time to sort out how much money you have or don't have. Time to feel something other than what you are feeling now.
I was a step away from the grave in my mind.
I was there wondering about the me in the mirror of my reflection. She is me. I am her. We are each other's shadow.
She is the devil on my shoulder. Gun in hand. At once she blows my brains out. The bullet enters my skull. It spins through the temporal lobe and the hippocampus. Front to center then out the back into open air. Spinning through my memory. Contorting around that bullet and pulling.
You wake up in the afterlife. It's whatever color you imagine it could be. A white void maybe. Or everything is dark.
My shadow is there.
She is dead too. So, maybe she isn't the devil like I thought.
Oh, you’re in line. There is a nameless body ahead of you. Another appears behind you. Standing in single file. Locking you in your place. It’s a long line of dead people. And if you're brave enough to look.
They're all you.
I make it to the front desk. A lady stands there. It's me again. She asks for my heart, so I reach inside somewhere and yank it out, disgusted.
“Have at it wretch.”
I don't feel anything. In this space with my not-devil she-shadow. I float against the floor.
In front of you, they bring out an old movie player thing and begin making you relive your life on the big screen.
It's nothing new.
Boring, right?
Get a load of this.
Stupid you.
Can’t get anything accomplished.
Nothing right.
Good thing you died.
Right?
The film ends and I think they're done because that took so long and I think to myself that I should have ended it sooner. But no, they click a button and I see my family.
It's your funeral.
They're crying because you're dead. And someone is screaming. You see a friend who knew you. You see a teacher. An animal. An imprint of your existence.
Wailing into the night and long into the years after. This is the worst fucking horror movie I've ever seen.
My heart that is gone rattles my bones. I'm sick. But I need it back. I need to go home.
I turn to my strange shadow who is also me, my likeness. She recoils when I forgive her.
Your shadow screams at the other you to give the heart back. The undertaker is unsure. You give it back. Give it back and shove it in through the rib cage and it is alive.
You are fucking alive!
Gasp.
Gasping for breath. Your lungs burn. But isn't that pain welcome?
OPEN YOUR EYES
I am flat against dark and damp concrete. I realize I am not alone. There are many who feel like me. Many—like me—who have fallen and wonder if the world should pass them by.
You wonder if the world should forget you.
I don't think so.
It can’t forget you. You'll be living somewhere in someone's mind. In the minds of family or friends or animals or someone like me. Because you are like me.
You can hate yourself.
But I will not hate you.
You can hurt yourself too.
But I will not hurt you.
I've got scars that I've made myself.
And maybe you've got them too.
And we don't have to go.
Just hang on.
And if you let go.
I will hang on to you.
You’re not alone.
© SteelBlue
