An experimental piece, written just to see if I can simulate paranoia. It's still too coherent. I'll give it another shot some time later.
The beginning was the end. The end is beginning. I’m playing with words. I’m delaying the inevitable. I cannot dally. I must make haste. I must escape. I cannot. But still, I must try. Like a terrified hare, I will terrify myself to death as I streak through the jungle with the predator right behind me. But I will not be caught alive!
I am a seasoned sprinter. I dash for obscurity, I race towards anonymity. I make a mark and scrub violently to erase it. I cannot be caught in the act or the aftermath. I must not be located. I cannot be locked up. That would be the end of me. Run, I scream to myself!
I look around desperately, for cues, for messages, for signs. Never for help though. Every hand that reaches out seeks to grasp, clutch. They are all in it. They whisper, conspire, coordinate so that they can creep up on me. I won’t let them. I’ll be gone. Ha!
I have the jitters. I twitch incessantly as I drum my fingers and chew my nails to ragged bits. I clasp and clutch my fingers, trying to calm myself down. My breath is reduced to whoops and gasps. I haven’t even started the race yet, and still, adrenaline fills up my veins, stoking my body, preparing it.
I toss baggage out. Everything that cannot be carried must go. Everyone who will slow me down must be left behind. Chunks of objects, memories, and relationships go hurtling through my window as the room becomes bare. All that remains is what will accompany me on the run.
They are here. Time’s up! I dive out, landing hard. Blood trickles through abused skin, skin that stings as sweat starts pouring freely. Trivialities. I race through narrow alleys, my shoulders ramming into strangers, bits and pieces of outlying identity knocked off in the chaos.
My stomach knots itself up as my lungs scream for air. My legs are on fire as they pound the path, my hands reaching out for anything that will support, that will help me hold on and lunge forward. I can feel them. The chase is on. There isn’t much time now.
The beginning was the end. The end is beginning. I’m out of time. They are here. They will have me soon. I’ve been running forever. I can run only for so long. I only hope they do not disappoint me. I have been preparing for this all my life. I stop. I turn around, half tottering. I can hear them. A moment away. Their stench fills up my nostrils. I clench my fists. The running is done. It is time for the last stand.
I brace myself, take a deep breath, and launch myself at them with a scream! Moments later, it is over. The end. Peace.
Cogito Ergo Finito
The beginning was the end. The end is beginning. I’m playing with words. I’m delaying the inevitable. I cannot dally. I must make haste. I must escape. I cannot. But still, I must try. Like a terrified hare, I will terrify myself to death as I streak through the jungle with the predator right behind me. But I will not be caught alive!
I am a seasoned sprinter. I dash for obscurity, I race towards anonymity. I make a mark and scrub violently to erase it. I cannot be caught in the act or the aftermath. I must not be located. I cannot be locked up. That would be the end of me. Run, I scream to myself!
I look around desperately, for cues, for messages, for signs. Never for help though. Every hand that reaches out seeks to grasp, clutch. They are all in it. They whisper, conspire, coordinate so that they can creep up on me. I won’t let them. I’ll be gone. Ha!
I have the jitters. I twitch incessantly as I drum my fingers and chew my nails to ragged bits. I clasp and clutch my fingers, trying to calm myself down. My breath is reduced to whoops and gasps. I haven’t even started the race yet, and still, adrenaline fills up my veins, stoking my body, preparing it.
I toss baggage out. Everything that cannot be carried must go. Everyone who will slow me down must be left behind. Chunks of objects, memories, and relationships go hurtling through my window as the room becomes bare. All that remains is what will accompany me on the run.
They are here. Time’s up! I dive out, landing hard. Blood trickles through abused skin, skin that stings as sweat starts pouring freely. Trivialities. I race through narrow alleys, my shoulders ramming into strangers, bits and pieces of outlying identity knocked off in the chaos.
My stomach knots itself up as my lungs scream for air. My legs are on fire as they pound the path, my hands reaching out for anything that will support, that will help me hold on and lunge forward. I can feel them. The chase is on. There isn’t much time now.
The beginning was the end. The end is beginning. I’m out of time. They are here. They will have me soon. I’ve been running forever. I can run only for so long. I only hope they do not disappoint me. I have been preparing for this all my life. I stop. I turn around, half tottering. I can hear them. A moment away. Their stench fills up my nostrils. I clench my fists. The running is done. It is time for the last stand.
I brace myself, take a deep breath, and launch myself at them with a scream! Moments later, it is over. The end. Peace.
Cogito Ergo Finito
