Pownce on David Leo on PownceThe voices do not stop, and yet I do not know where they come from. That is about as great a lie as believing the shattered remains of my own reflection. That is a about as great a lie as feeling the phantom touch on the shoulder that never existed to begin with. I find no comfort in these lies, nor do I generally find comfort in any lie. The mirthful tongue has already caused enough damage as of lately.
I know exactly where the voices come from, the only place they ever came from. (more…)
I hurt the one I loved today. I do so simply with a comment, just one sentence. I fear that that sentence will end all that building and the strengthening I have built over this era. Perhaps error is a better word, because that is how it always happens, they end in grave error. Most relationships end upon a single sentence and why should this one be any different? How could days, weeks, months, and years of careful planning and building be undone with a single quip?
Easily.
The fact that I considered the relationship careful planning speaks volumes for itself. (more…)
Staring down at a slightly larger pool of my own blood dripping from my left hand, I distinctly remember hearing a pop, or almost hearing one. It was the kind of pop, which brings about the sensation of smelling smoke. Immediately following that almost inaudible hiss, the third of four light bulbs hanging from a strip in the bathroom went out.
The filament must have blown I think to myself hunched over the basin affixed atop a beige marble countertop. The pain reels as I clutched my left hand with the right hand. Why bleed on good marble? (more…)
And it still continues, even now as I stare down into a pool sprinkled with my own blood circling the drain in the bathroom basin. The pain stings, but that soon will pass. It will all soon pass, for time will heal this wound until I tear it asunder again. Looks as if my eyes are not the only thing that is blood shot these days. I guess I could retreat to my happy place, a place where I stand on a mountain top wearing a military Schutzstaffel cap featuring the Totenkopf. There is a flowing trench coat behind me wafting in the wind. (more…)
Crepuscular rays glistened off the wooden thin pressboard coffee table. I have to laugh that the pale wood compliments the three or four beams that pierce through the windowsill, over the couch, and onto the table. The light shone against a lone green marble bishop left on the far left side of a brown and yellow marble medieval war chess set. Perhaps it is a sundial telling me that it is approximately 2:58?
Is that AM or PM though? I cannot tell. In fact, I cannot tell if it is day or night because the light shining through the window is either that of an adjacent street light or the sun itself. (more…)
If it all started with waking up, it would all have to end with sleeping? At least, that is what I thought as I dazed in and out of consciousness resting on a generic black leather couch that was neither long enough to support my height, nor wide enough for me to rest properly on my back. A yellow light shone through the window frame at the corner of the room, but the couch itself, up against the window blocked those harmful rays from my eyes.
Crepuscular rays glistened off the wooden thin pressboard coffee table. I have to laugh that the pale wood compliments the three or four beams that pierce through the windowsill, over the couch, and onto the table. (more…)
This week I’m bringing you an article so intense it will drain your essence and make you second guess your choice of waking up in the morning. Welcome to sharing the hate and spreading the pain.
It all continued with waking up to small impressions of rounded bamboo ingrained into my arm. An arm that I no longer feel with the exception of a numb tickling sensation. Perhaps numb is not the best word to use, because each movement of my fingers brings intense pain. (more…)
It all continued waking up listening to Schubert’s Ave Maria. Waking up, choking, in a cesspool of my own bile created from lying in an air mattress that used to hold air. A quick scan of the room finds one of my two black Katana firmly impregnated into the corner wall under a the dim hue of a black light. The answer to the question of how the air mattress no longer holds air is self evident along with the fact that my anger grows as each day passes. (more…)
Again, the calendar strikes against my purpose and calling. I feel so many elements are working against me as they have since this radio network kicked off.
Today is a day that needs no assistance to bring others down, make others depressed, and bring others misery. Hope, expectation, and failed deliverance will do that for me.
I take a week off from sharing my hate to let you wallow in your pain. Enjoy a dinner alone if you are lucky, or the company of one other if you are not.
Sincelery,
Leo Cain
It all started with waking up angry. Not the typical kind of angry where you can just shrug it off, but the palatable type of rage the infests your very core being transcending your day into a series of attempts to climb out of the bowels of wrath. Usually around this time, being so angry makes me happy, and that nullifies the rage. Sadly, the feeling I enjoy most is counteracted by enjoying it, but that is the price you pay when you choose to only accept hate.
Around that time, the happiness attained from anger starts to anger me again. Numbness, and indifference soon follow. Today is not that day. (more…)
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