Гробокоп: другие произведения.

joyless roger

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Конкурс 'Мир боевых искусств.Wuxia' Переводы на Amazon
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Конкурс фантрассказа Блэк-Джек-20
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  a small breeze soft and shy warm like her lips after a sip of coffee leaving brief kisses on my bare skin as i lie naked in the meadow grass lush dense and tall that rustles quietly welcoming it in the middle of an intoxicating may night far away from all kinds of light from noises and crowds constant headache of electricity i lay there playing corpse drunk with the thick rich scent of wild flowers new sprouts hot soil of the fields nearby adorned with less evident note of the wood in the back i lay there completely dead cursed by this constant breathing appalled by the fuss of my heartbeat it was soon after i got dispossessed and went through a series of despicable experiences in attempt to determine for sure whether i'm alive or dead after all or if it's some kind of death trip and all that incessant throbbing rush of blood into my head and out of it is just a product of my imagination slowly oozing from the dying brain in the first 5 minutes after it ceases to contract to inflate and deflate a pathetic creature of meat and bone there was no moon in the clear sky and no electricity for dozens of miles around so nothing to overshadow the starlight timeless senseless millions of bitingly brilliant pins and needles right under the skin and it hurts like a shard of ice in the eye but the feeling sunk where it'd started with no emotion to follow and that wasn't just because it always hurts when you're me everything always fucking hurts quite literally and so bad i've got used to ignoring it long ago and there were no insects and no birds no sound no presence for miles around it was a place out of time in late may oh how i wish i could find the way back to it now oh how would i love to get buried there sometime no matter in peace or in pieces whichever you prefer and it cannot not be occult since i cannot unsee same as you cannot unsee
  i value inability to deceive oneself and lull oneself into ignoring one's own anxiety about as much as humbleness all the opposites are despicable which is why we keep going down that road playing lack of attention in full agreement
  oh how painfully seducing a perspective you contain oh how attractive an idea in response to it i retreat and recoil i've been down that road i've seen what's it like to really not exist outside of another that place elsewhere where you wanted so badly to get all your life yet never got a chance
  to learn what happens when a cast-off gets discarded and the monolyth breaks and crumbles down in a space avalanche breaking all the laws and principles it was used to rely on and there are no more connections and no more sense and no more senses and no more balance and no more axis and no more and no more
  y u so innocent in a way with your heavy-caliber impending doom not bothering to descend into thinking in such trivial notions i got it i get it arite it's just that it's too clean and too quiet too black and too bright deep inside not to embarrass me and confuse
  when i become a matter of fact
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