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Words Left Behind

16 Sep

I’ve come to love the silence. I have long since stopped talking to myself. It has become a part of me. But it is never an empty silence, it is full of words scribbled on the wall, phrased scrawled across the the room. “Thomas Warlow 1981-“, “love is gone”, “all that you can’t leave behind:

Love
Loss
Family
Friends
Strangers
Hate
Myself
MEMORY”
“Things not to think about:
Why
Where
Lisa
Kids
Friends
Chocolate
Cookies
Muffins
Ice-cream
Cakes
Steak
Chips
Nice food”
And then more: “to be wise you must first be a fool”, “there are no walls, this door is nought”, “I’ve come to love the silence”, “words are for the dead”…
And then there was a window, at first I couldn’t see much but as time grew by I saw mountains and lakes and a bright blue sky when I looked at it.I saw old trees as wise beings hunched from the weight of their knowledge and young innocent weightless girls dance by them. Outside, words of wisdom were scattered in the wind: “A wise man knows that he is foolish, he knows his advice is never absolute but it is always the least foolish thing he could think of. A wise man knows that he knows not much… A true wise man never calls himself wise, others do it for him.”
Foreign words on distant shores sprang out: “Il est interdit d’interdire”, “Errare humanum est”.
People call me The Madman. I no longer see these walls, there are no boundaries in my mind I am one with my cell and when finally I die as I know I will, it will keep me alive. “Words are for the dead”. The living have never as much use for their words as when they are dead. Because it is all that is left of who they once were.
Though my best words will always have their own wall, in front of the door, unmissable: “impossible is impossible”. A message for future tenants to ponder.
                                                            • † •
I was possessed, I killed a man in cold blood during a ritual people only do once in their lives. spirits possessed me and I gutted him like a pig, slaughtered his family and burned down his home. But this man had wronged me deeply and I had no part in what happened to him, my body tore him apart while my mind watched from the outside. I do not remember it well, it was dark and messy.
And so men came and took me away but I could not deny my body’s part in the act and so it was condemned to sit rotting in this cell as my mind roams free through the cement window. They say I am insane. I am starting to believe it.
…………………………………..dotsdotsandmoredots……………………………………………………………………………….
Looking AT the window, it reminds me of a funny old film about two Americans and an Italian in jail: the Italian draws a window and says “do you say look at the window or look through the windows?” and one of the other guy says “I’m afraid in this case you’re looking at the window”.
I probably wont be able to answer to your comments this week (I’ll get to them as soon as possible), I barely got this up :/
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10 Comments

Posted by on 16 September 2014 in Banzaï, Speakeasy

 

10 responses to “Words Left Behind

  1. DragonSpark

    16 September 2014 at 20:56

    Same, on the whole comment thing… Who knew School would be willing to chase me so late into the night that I can’t WRITE anymore!? XC Good piece, friend, especially if you’ve been as constricted time-wise as me.

     
    • imab00kworm

      18 September 2014 at 14:05

      less time-wise than computer-wise really. well done for yours too, I hope you’ll always have time to write

       
  2. Suzanne

    17 September 2014 at 15:36

    Love this! A glimpse inside the mind of a madman. I really like the part at the end where he describes the separation between his body and his mind. Very cool. 🙂

     
  3. Grace Black

    17 September 2014 at 21:00

    I enjoyed how you pieced this work together. Thanks for sharing!

     
  4. Blake

    18 September 2014 at 16:00

    I was disorientated at the beginning but I think that was one of the strengths of the story because you didn’t simply say “here’s a deranged man in a cell,” instead you took us inside the character. And in the end that meant he retained my sympathy that bit more, even after hearing about him gutting another man for obscure reasons.

     
    • imab00kworm

      19 September 2014 at 19:49

      thank you! Alas that disorientation thingy meant that I got a love letter from Rowan explaining that it was too confusing but I think it’s kinda worth staying, you win some you lose some (I think I probably lost a few people in this maze 😉 ). Actually… I never did win :/ well, humbug to that! Thanks for your comment!

       
      • Blake

        19 September 2014 at 19:59

        Hmm I think context is everything, personally. If a story takes you into a deranged mind why on earth would it be perfectly understandable? Your story embodied the situation and made sense in context. So, humbug indeed! 😉

         
      • imab00kworm

        19 September 2014 at 20:04

        😀

         

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