A Toast To My Slumber

There will come a time when I’ll be able to write once more, when my poetic tongue has been cut, when my elegiac body has been drained, when my second to nothing of a soul has been delivered.

That is the time when I will write once more. Write not like a fool who pretends to know what he does not know. Write not like a wise man who knows what he does not know.

I shall write as if I do not belong in this world. I shall write as if I was a mere observer to this life, to my life, to yours. For I may have loved or been loved. For I may have hated or been hated. All these raw emotions are of no use to me now.

There will come a time when I would say, I’ve created the piece that will exude my very core.

But I have no core.

But I have a soul.

But I have nothing.

Someday I will write that one piece I would be proud of, that one piece I’ll take to my grave as I rot in ghastly abandon.

Someday I will write that one piece I would be ashamed of, that one piece that will expose me of my worth yet hide me from my previous idiocy.

Someday.

Not today.

Today I shall cherish yesterday and smile for tomorrow but I will frown for that ‘someday,’ because that moment shall mark the end of my glorious days. But my glorious days are not of glory or astounding beauty but of failure and atrociousness so vivid that you’ll find it magnificent.

And wonder of how I fall that way I fall, of how I lose the way I lose, of how I breathe the way I breathe when I should have taken no breath at all.

After which, another surge of blood will flow through me and it will flourish. It won’t be glorious. It won’t be beautiful. But it would be quite filling.

But again on that day, I say, my name will be forgotten yet my soul will thrive, will grow like it was a freshly youth void of neither knowledge nor emotion, a blank slate.

Yes, yes, it will be magnificent like my glorious days.

If and only if I have written that one piece can my soul find peace; then afterwards I can close my eyes, seal my lips, fold my hands and lay down to sleep. To a slumber of forever, I shall make a toast to that in my dreams.

Oh, how I miss…

Oh, how I wish…

Oh, how I grieve for my lost innocence and satisfaction.

One day, I shall write that one piece and on that day, I say, I shall lay in my coffin in peace.


- 1:07 A.M. November 8, 2010