From Scribbles: One Sultry Predawn

So! So you think you can tell

Heaven from hell?

Blue skies from pain?

Can you tell if you’d feel, from the cold steel rain?

Did they get you trade your heroes for ghosts?

Hot ashes for trees?

Hot air for the cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

-Pink Floyd-“Wish you were here”

Wish you were here!

Have you ever stood on the edge of a cliff and looked straight down and contemplated not whether to jump, but how best to jump in order to avoid splashes of blood on your clothes?

Would a gory looking corpse be acceptable to society as the last remains of you?

Jump I must but I must be neat about it!

“Oh my gaaawwwd! Splashes???? Of blood???? Eeeuuuu!” and “Can you believe he jumped? I to never thought yaar!”.

It might be interesting to observe the reaction of various people post your own mortem.

If there was any proof that such an observation could be made, it might even be worthwhile to kill yourself just for kicks. However, such proof does not exist, and therefore it makes suicide too big a risk. As Kafka puts it, there might just be an exactly similar room outside! What happens if you die and then discover that you’re in a parallel universe exactly similar except that you can’t even die because you are already dead!

Then what do you do?

What do you do if you suddenly realize that you exchanged a walk on part in freedom for a lead role in a cage!

Simple, you don’t do anything, you grin and bear it, and the minute the cage door opens, you sneak out and raise hell.

And then the shit really hits the fan, cause remember, it’s a lead role! Everyone’s looking.

That’s when fucked takes on a whole new meaning.

Finis