“Pain? We’re all in pain.”
A lifetime of urges, one of top of another, a layer cake of desires dripping with rich maple syrup, soaking and seeping in, a sweet, sticky, liquid that both refreshes and replenishes. This tower of intense, unstoppable, essential and unavoidable needs never diminishes. However much you eat, gorging away, this cake; you still have it.
And then one day, it stops.
The urge doesn’t come back, it hasn’t come back. It is a physical manifestation of a cracked, haunted head. It is the oddest of sensations. What was always is no more, what was a driving force, pushes no longer. It is diminished. Redundant. Exhausted. Maybe if one soul is having too much cake, and eating, the next must have none. A balance.
So where to next? Find the best, be as good as it can be, look forward, be calm and take yourself with yourself. Don’t look behind, don’t get stuck, don’t drag down, don’t lose yourself, don’t forget yourself. Simple advice, with unknowable meaning.
But will the urges be replenished then? Will they come back. What manner of sick joke would that be? Urges, replenished yet unfulfillable. A life yet more hollow. What hope for crumbs now? Not one, just an empty silence, to be broken, just as I am broken.
And the cat laughed.
Today I wrote between 21:50 and 22:00. I was prompted by an idea here.
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