22 Dec 2007


(I know the madness will never leave me, not completely. The memory of snakes is ingrained, in my genes, deeper. Darkness seems to carry itself in my mind, as if — if it were to dissipate, then none of me would be left, as if I were a shadow that had no real component to stretch from. So many times I have imagined that I am a doomed man, a damned man, a forsaken man, a guilty man, a lost man. I may never know what the truth of any of it is, and such is the way of the world. I have accustomed myself to the fierce uncertainty of it all. But there are these side moments, always coming and going like a sparrow were a moment, here and gone: a small, blue hope out the corner of my eye. Just enough to tell me that there is love in the world. Small vials of minding water in a desert of mindlessness.)

Am I still standing here?

[This is the end of Chapter 1, the whole of which you can see here.]

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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