Moonlight drapes my room tonight like the ancient dust found in every old and abandoned house you enter, filling every crack, every crevice with gloom. I try and drift, for just a second but my heart drops and I'm sadly awakened again by my own delusions and perils of the night. For when I close my eyes, I see a manner of things that frighten me and my fleeting hopes of sleep are diminished. Thus the forlorn story of my insomnia repeats itself yet another night.

Amidst the eerie stillness of the evening, something mysterious jolted violently against my wall splitting the silence in two. It appeared with a thunderous thud at the end of the room that rattled my bones to the marrow. Startled, I awakened with a single heartbeat and gasping for air. In horror I perceived a lone and tall figure convulsing wildly in a strip of pale moonlight that carpeted the floor. A solitary shape of no defined earthly nature stood twitching at the very end of my bed, watching me as I stared back. Quaking, I contemplated my fate as it whispered indecipherably, putting its arm out as if to reach me.

So many nights I had heard its ramblings of insanity, so many times I had wished for death to greet me in its wake and once again, there it stood; a shadowy devil from the depths of hades staring down into my worthless soul. “Who’s there!?” I uttered, as my heart palpitated rapidly only to be replied by the silence of the night, “Hear me foul creature of the night, be gone or thou shall feel God’s wrath! Be gone dreaded beast back to the depths of hell with you!” As I spoke, it hovered nearer and nearer, its fiery glare pierced my soul as it tilted its gaze. The daemon stopped abruptly as I whispered “Amen.” An immense howl escaped the creature as it dissipated into a black cloud of evil laughter that echoed in the deepest chasms of my consciousness.

In a mixed sense of relief and revulsion I staggered out of the warm protection of my covers and beheld the mirror across my chamber. Just to check if I was still whole and among the living.
I was whole and so was my executioner.

I open my fridge door and what do I see?
A half empty bottle of beer, relishes, old vegetables and water.

I close the door.

My groaning stomach persuades me to open the door once more. Like an alter ego, I obey it's commands.

I'm sure this time, there will be food, food that was invisible just a second ago. Food that I will see, if I look hard enough.

I grab the chilled silver handle and give it a pull. Wide open swings the door to reveal food galore!--

Oh wait, there's no food, not even a decent beverage. There's still just a whole load of nothingness and hunger.

A deep dark depression cuts me like a knife through butter. no food here, no food there, nothingness all around just starvation and suffering.

I close the fridge.

The cycle repeats itself.


Such is life.

The countless tears that trickled to my lips while reading your letters. Pearls thrown to swine every time I spoke my thoughts to you.  There wasn’t a day that had passed that I didn’t miserably breathe your name

Pleading for mercy you said the same words that I once spoke to you.

Now you’re gone, departed before a red right hand...

The look you gave me tonight was the look I’ve always truly wanted from you. A look of helplessness. Hopelessness. Breathlessness.  The way I always looked at you.

Now my shivering silver blade is the only friend I have left...

I  say my last goodbye to that cold permanent expression on your face. One last time.

“If i can't have you my dearest, no one can”

Out cold like a pebble lost in an intangible lake. I am the pebble, and my lake, a  bottomless ocean of unconsciousness. I can feel the cool bite of blackness sink it's teeth into my brain...

Moonlight drapes my room tonight like the ancient dust found in old abandoned houses. Filling every crack, every crevice. I try and drift, for just a second but my heart drops and I'm awakened.

For when I let my eyelids close, I see a manner of things that frighten me and my fleeting glimpses of sleep are diminished. Thus the forlorn story of my insomnia repeats itself yet again.

Is my mind cursed?
Am I being haunted?
Why can I see such frightful things inside my head?

Every night's  a nightmare and it seems the dreams are  scarce. Unsheathing myself from the covers, I look at my reflection, just to reassure myself that I'm whole.

Oh I'm whole.

But. There she is. Someone else. Someone unknown. Staring back at me from behind. A shiver shakes my spine and rattles my knees. I'm numb , my body is frozen in time.

Sapphire drops of moonlight bounced off her umbrella and a cool, smoky mist escaped her crimson lips every once and so often.There she stood alone, on a loud, bright and miserable winters’ night. Pensively gazing over the glistening city streets before her.

Echoes of light gleamed from the windows of bars and cafes. Reflections of lover’s kisses melted in a cold November rain. Live music, laughter, conversation! O what a cheerful sight is the city at night, for all but one this evening.

Such striking acts of delight and love did nothing but depress her.

This loner longs to stand with the pack and live her life, instead of merely existing. She is the Steppenwolf of her time. Unwanted and alone. And much like the original Steppenwolf, she gives and cares for others very much like family. Alas, despite her best efforts, she could never fit in.

And perhaps, never will.

Amidst a melancholy darkness, all is silent, all is still. Mimicking the nature of my soul at this precise instant...

A river flows within me dancing to the beat of a lonesome drum, waltzing me into a million realms of true disbelief where my thoughts linger eternally. I play the role of a mere onlooker to the sheer terror that ensues within the darkest chasms of my imagination...

Despite the sonnet of insanity playing alongside my unconsciousness, a drum still calls, a sweet psithurism flows through the branches of memory and a serpentine red river continues to flow mortally like clockwork...

Salty drops of rain embrace the names engraved in stone as beautifully decorated couples dance atop their ancient beds.

You see, their rivers stopped flowing at the final beat of their fateful drums, imprisoning them to a non-existent world where memories are no longer created. For now, they're dancing; while they await the final judgement.

A holy holy flash of light strikes the center of my still pounding drum, all the wine has been drunk and the last cigarette smoked, rivers are a flowin'. I awaken breathless, to an empty, white chamber. I know I am home. Without a pulse.

-Garth Lebowski

I am haunted by the kiss in your eyes, the kiss you can’t give me. Your family disapproves of me, and so do your friends. They will probably never approve of me but in the end they are going to admire my strength and faithfulness. They are going to realize that I will never, never give up on you no matter how hard they make it for us to be together. One day, they will understand that this kind of love, in itself, deserves to be returned.
When I am in bed, about to sleep, or when I’m alone and lost in my thoughts, suddenly I meet your face, and I know you’re the one for me, no matter what stands between us.
I love you more because I have to fight for you.

I am sitting in the bar writing this. I started at the Sir Francis Drake, and I will do a tour of duty in all the great bars of the city before morning. There is a storm outside, a fresh wind and a choppy see from my voyage. But the earth isn't quite big enough for me tonight. I am now at The Globe and plan to proceed to The Moon and The Stars and then make a journey to all the planets, ending in the constellation of Venus - anything so as to be closer to the pleasure zone that is yours, all yours.

It's not my fault I am here. It would start to rain as we were waiting for the bus, and those stupid feelings of mine, hauled me into this bar. It is a dark, cold, confounded hole, fit only for desperadoes and down-and-outs. The cold outside made the warmth of the wine work faster on me.

I wish you could see me now as I am definitely not myself anymore. I'm a much pleasanter, warmer, wittier person than when cold sober and I am sure that I could win your love when I am like this.

The wine hisses upon my heart. Cupid has fired a dart into my liver. I am asking the barman for ice to cool my fevered thoughts. Ice! Clear and cold and definitely melting, just like you. The idiot has brought me olives instead. This is a damnable place. A hideous world, I wish I were out of it and in heaven, by which, of course I mean in your arms. Ah, if only they were bottling your bath water - then there'd be something to slake this incredible thirst! I'd close my eyes, sip you slowly, and let you slide down my throat.

This is my constant prayer, wether I am drunk or sober.

My undying love for you couldn’t ever be quenched. Not with the salty water of all the seven seas. Nor put out with every tear drop from every drifting cloud above all the four corners of this blue, blue earth.