Society

When – by design – one believes in the unsurmounted and unbending goodwill of humanity; they shall be swallowed whole into the gaping depths of society’s maw. Full of gnashing teeth and claret dripping fangs – society is a terrifying being. Atop those atrociously horrifying canines, sit a million eyes that twirl and dart with a nervous edge; ebony irises do not miss a thing. If Dante had described a beast fit for his hell, society would have been it. Or perhaps it was the fiery pit that he spoke of.  

A Silent Cacophony – Chapter Sixteen (Nicolai.)

        “Despite my original fear of all things gay, I was . . . having fun. I was actually enjoying moving freely about upon the obsidian dance floor. Even while I was surrounded by what seemed to be a sea of half dressed men, my fear of social situations seemed to be entirely obsolete amongst the dancing crowd. For it was obvious that they simply didn’t . . . care.

         They didn’t care that I wasn’t dressed like some throwback from the hood. They weren’t standing by, watching with malicious eyes – waiting for me to open my mouth – ready to bombard me with a host of brutal insults. They didn’t care that I was encroaching upon their territory. They didn’t care that my eyes were straying from the ground – surveying this new world.

       Because I was one of them.

        Here with these people, my sexuality wasn’t a freakish anomaly, but commonplace; all but expected. And for the first time in a long time, I was no longer a misfit.”

When Hope Is Gone.

Like that absolute peace and stillness before the crashing and earth reverberating storm hits. Before the black clouds rolled in, promising destruction. Long before ice cold water pelted from the sky onto the life below. Death had a prelude performance too. A show of such amazement and wonder that it baffled the mind. Then, when the storm rolls in, and you lose everything. You find out that the storm doesn’t kill.

       No the real killer, is the ending of hope.

Silence?

When silence is met, all noise must be conquered. The two cannot possibly survive in the same space; for a glass cannot be both completely empty and completely full. When a cacophony of sounds bombards ones ears in an almost overwhelming din, there simply can be no silence.

Than, when one seems to be suffocating in silence, no noise can exist for than it is not silence, but sound. But silence – it seems – is not as soundless as we always assume. For silence has the ability to scream and holler and whisper and gasp. It is in the silence   that we speak the most truth – with expressions and actions, observation and understanding.  Now whether that means that silence is simply impossible to achieve or that it is just a little louder than first imagined, is impossible to figure out.

So pause . . . can you hear that?

Silence. 

“You know Nico…

“You know Nicolai, these kids are going to grow up one day – they may not get nicer, but hopefully they’ll understand the concept of tact – and you’re still going to be gay,” (Alchemy Fords – A Silent Cacophony.)

The Beast that Holds Me Captive and Captivated.

This perilous silence is enough to hold me an enraptured prisoner within the iron depths of your fiery irises. Burn and scald they do; your eyes,as you captivate me with that scorching stare . . . and I can’t look away. A tortured scream and an excruciated gasp are torn through my throat as if the very fires of hell were licking at my skin. Looking around me in a horror filled trance I realize, ‘this is my perdition.’

Your nails are clawing through me and under my skin, rending the once whole plains of my porcelain flesh into bloody ribbons. The red claret is joined by the swiftly flowing trails of liquid salt that seem to burn and sizzle on a downward journey. A smirk curves your luscious lips as a cruel laugh rumbles from the confines of your heavy chest. The sound lashes at me and caresses me – delicious as it is. Even now I cannot overlook your cloying splendour –an Adonis among men.

I try again to close my eyes – to look upon anything other than your graceful frame –but just as it always is, I cannot. Your grip tightens as if you had read my thoughts and were set upon quashing any notions of freedom. No matter how desperately I cling to them, your overpowering strength is enough to tear them away. It’s as if you have control of not only my physical being, but over even my internal struggle. You build the fear and than strip away any vestiges of remaining hope within me.

Grace – it seems –has deserted me, savagely tearing away my faith like some sick joke. Fate has broken me, and destiny has enslaved me. Bereft am I, at their loss – their absence leaving me void and hopeless and hollow. Curse at you and curse at fate and curse at destiny, I do. But held beneath you I remain, crying and screaming and breaking. When will it end? Will it ever? Questions that are as desperate as they are hopeless, bound to remain unanswered.

Desperation grows within like a rapidly expanding spread of mould upon cheese left too long trapped in the scorching gaze of the overhead ball of spitting flames. Perhaps I should have saved myself . . . or at least sent out a plea to somesuperhero, somewhere . . . to rescue me.

But it is too late . . . far, far too late for regrets and thoughts of saviours in spandex and flowing capes. There is no saviour to be called, no one to hear that most desperate of pleas. So with a tortured cry that echoes off of the whitewash ceiling, I simply . . .wait. And wait. And then wait some more. But what I am waiting for? Not freedom, no, definitely not that. I wouldn’t know what to do with freedom. Maybe just a peace of mind – if that’s even possible. Perhaps I could simply settle for a mediocre existence in which I am neither blissfully happy nor overcome with sadness.

You stole that, upon snake tongue and deceitful eyes that seem to glow with an angry ember; an ember that moves beneath my soul with the captivating allure of a thousand Sirens. But like those most treacherous of beings, there lies a danger that sulks and lurks behind the shining perfection of your outer shell. It is as if your external faultlessness leaves no room for internal transcendence. And it leaves me numb in my knowledge.

“I love you,” came the whisper spoken on a broken tongue, as your eyes continue to bore into my own – flame and passion and heat. “I love you,” words that force themselves out of my gaping maw and into the dense air that surrounds us. “I . . . “I can no longer speak. Silenced by you. Silenced by my own captivated horror. Silenced by your screaming silence.

I look at my captor . . . and society looks back.

Do They Know?

There is a box that sits in a plain white room. The translucent, three by three surface is just as drab it surrounds; no dents, no colours and no fascinations mark the flawless cube.  Inside the box, a girl is crouched, body set straight forwardly ahead, shoulders stiff and held high in a rather defensive manner. Slim and lithe the girl is beauty hidden behind the undesirable; light smothered by the all-consuming dark.Her brunette hair is messy, yet perfectly coiffed. It sits flat against alabaster skin, frames a face – a mask –that holds emotions that are hidden.

Bright blue eyes –sparkling yet dull – harbour lies and deceit; shadows and smog. Roiling like the oppressive grey of slowly creeping clouds, the truth is camouflaged; stored away like acorns by a desperately hoarding squirrel that scampers from tree to tree; fighting time. Lie after lie – hidden fact after hidden fact– is contained within the once clear irises. Another heavy brick, another weight added to the already heavy load.

So it builds and it builds.

The air is cold, the atmosphere chilled, yet small drops of sweat bead upon her smooth, pale forehead. Although she feels the salty wetness crawl sluggishly across her cool skin, not a move does she make to wipe away the torpidly moving liquid. Passes by do not see the room, or the box inside the room, or the girl inside the box. She knows no one can see, yet she still quakes with the occasional bout of fear. What if the next person to venture by could see the girl inside the box and the box inside the room?

Another secret hidden, another secret told. She begins to rock back and forth, muttering to herself, her speech insensible to others; if any cared to listen. All her actions, all her words, seem to be shadowed and unimportant in the face of the constant stress.

She looks in a mirror and does not see herself, does not witness the person beneath. The girl she spies is perfect, no flaws allowed. She smiles graciously and performs tasks of goodwill. She feels sympathy, she works diligently. She labours and she laughs, practices religion and pretends a faith.

All the while she sits in her box, pretending and pretending.

Sincerity and honesty, she knows, is white and transparent. One can see through the truth as one can peer into a glass box; much like her own.Little does she know, that her box is simply an illusion, no truth does it contain. Small cracks zigzag across the apparently impenetrable, unflawed confines of the box. Fissures and dents, stains and chips mar the cube. No truth exists here, no authenticity exists anywhere.

A pointed finger, a brow raised in an accusatory manner. Further does the girl withdraw. She speaks, an almost truth, a slip of the tongue and she scrambles frantically for cover; hiding behind yet another lie. A slur, a name not directed at her, yet an invisible tear drops to splash noiselessly against the plain white floor. An imagined slight, a possible smirk; and so she wonders . . . do they know?

Of Australia and Civil Rights.

“As an Australian gay man, I now have more rights in New Zealand than in Australia. This is my country’s shame.” Liberalcynic

Just Let Me.

Oh Can’t you see? 

I want you to hate me 

I’d rather your’ screams 

than these hopeless dreams 

 

I wish you’d knock me down 

just let me drown 

hold my head underwater 

don’t you dare falter 

 

Why can’t you leave me be?  

stop tryin’ to save me 

your’ way too late 

just accept my fate 

 

Don’t give the stars any brilliance 

in your’ defiance 

Don’t you dare show me life 

Then leave me in strife 

 

Don’t hold me tight 

Long into the night 

Then leave me mourning 

When you leave in the morning 

 

Why can’t you leave me be?  

stop tryin’ to save me 

your’ way too late 

just accept my fate 

 

So let me die 

So let me die 

just say goodbye 

just let me die 

 

So here’s the knife 

just end my life 

you steal my breath 

but won’t give me death 

 

Just let me die 

Just let me die 

 

Why can’t you leave me be?  

stop tryin’ to save me 

your’ way too late 

just accept my fate 

 

So let me die 

So let me die 

just say goodbye 

just let me die 

 

Why can’t you leave me be?  

stop tryin’ to save me 

your’ way too late 

just accept my fate  

 

So Just Let Me Die 

Just Let Me Die 

Let Me Die…

 

Useless Tears and Silent Prayers – Lyrics

I sit here starin’ blankly at the TV

Wonderin’ what in the world is wrong with me

How can I pretend to really care?

When all I do is look on and stare

I pray for peace, I hope for love

I pray for that olive and the snow white dove

How long can this anguish last

How long do the starving have to fast

Before we stop sitting and watching

When do we start moving?

Towards the pain of others and not away

When will peace become the only way?

We cry all these useless tears

And pray all these silent prayers

All those pain filled faces

All those war ravaged places

What’s the point of all these useless tears?

If they don’t alleviate anyone’s fears?

How long can I pretend to really care?

When I wouldn’t ever dare

To suit an action to a word

Cept’ to sit here and pray to the lord

Looking through glass in the door

Refusing to see the pain anymore

Stop with the self-riotous anger

While there are others in danger

Don’t sit there talkin’ ‘bout the law

While there are others off at war

Stop slinging out the hate

When others can’t control their fate

We cry all these useless tears

And pray all these silent prayers

All those pain filled faces

All those war ravaged places

What’s the point of all these useless tears?

If they don’t alleviate anyone’s fears?

So wipe away all those useless tears

Share with the world those silent prayers

Sing with the people, join as one

So we can face the fear and know we’ve won

So all of the love and all of the life

Can free us of all this strife

Let’s face that dark and lonely night

Fill it up with all our light

Let’s look that pain in the face

And blast it into outta space

Let’s rid the world of all this pain

Cover the land with the cleansing rain

We pray for peace, we hope for love

We pray for that olive and the snow white dove

All those joy filled faces

All those peaceful places

The point of all these joyful tears

Living so many blissful years

We pray for peace, we hope for love

We pray for that olive and the snow white dove