Sunday, August 14, 2011


If one day I have to die, what am I living for?

I tried butchering my heart, right into pieces, even throwing them to dogs out, who ate jubilantly but I did not die.
I jumped off a cliff, I can’t say the heights but it was as far your eyes take you up. I was alive.
I paid a lorry to crush me to grains. I still did not die.
I graved myself, straight for a year. My lungs screamed but nothing happened.
I offered myself to famished alligators. They voraciously enjoyed my meat. I was living.
I ripped my body apart and asked people to roast every part. I did not die.
I burned my house sitting on the couch. Flames exploding- bright red flames, devouring the antiques, all except me. I sat alive.
I injected some deadly poison to die as the rat died that day. I enjoyed the drink.
I spent my capitals on their weapon. It blew me off some miles away. I did not die.

Here I write my anecdote, giggling, thinking I should just live.
                                                                                           As simple as that!


Blasphemous Aesthete said...


The timing might be wrong. Maybe the reaper is gone for a drink :)

Blasphemous Aesthete

Monika said...

Ahh, right!! Up for a new strike! May the forces be with me this time.