I emptied the tea cup and placed it back on the table. This is my life now, this is my table, my walls… and this is the best I can imagine myself to ever be. Every day at 5 o’clock in the morning is the same story, I’m losing my attention starring at a tea cup, taking long looks inside it as if I was stripped off of all my desires. The cup is looking back inside me and discovers I’m as empty as she is, every morning after we talk – my roommate, that is. At 8 o’clock I should be in school but is impossible for my brain to understand the notion of time nowadays. I can feel her behind the kitchen door, waiting for me to invite her in, but my roommate with her genital herpes is walking from a room to another like a zombie, but I am not focused at her problems this morning, therefore… I remain lethargic in my moment. She is a sex addict – I help her out on the rare occasions when she cannot find a friend with whom she can try to heal her childhood traumas (sure, like careless sex would ever help), abusing our own bodies with feelings and erotic motions we consider to be rotten. I, sometimes, when I need her for myself, I scare away her dates, telling them she has contacted an STD from a canola field (all of them are quick to judge the desease, but not the absence of logic in my statement). When I feel sad and tired enough to step out of life, I just join their fornication with absolutely no sense of pleasure, or reality. They never mind!
I can’t tell about the weather at this early hour but it smells like it’s going to be a sunny day again. I grab a long knife and I am slicing my life in half with it. There were no friends in my past and not at this exact moment, in particular, when Friend should get horrified by my decision and show me real love and real kind feelings. What should I dare next for attention? Why should I keep daring as long as my dark thoughts are the only ones thoughtful of me? Yes, my thoughts are the only friends I have and listen to, “why?” would be a stupid question now, is too late and too red all over the kitchen. My thoughts are naturally very dark and I am afrid to ask myself “why” are they like this.
My mind is collecting ideas and feelings from the ether, is in direct competition with my busted veins and in direct contact with God, unsurprised (I feel) by my desperate decision to end all my cycles in a single move. Fear goes away…
It was a beautiful day, indeed. A kind of day that could have made a suicide to look too acceptable. But as mad as she was about waiting on the other side of the door, she storms in, raising a little hell in my solitude… she was young, had her first beer a day before and went outside looking for trouble, distancing herself from my ending. Her shameless and immature body can be quite bizarre in this kind of severe context. Everything alters behind her, transforming everything into colors of death, black and blacker. It is as if an army of crows are covering the city as she is leaving it behind her. A sort of devouring darkness created in her mind was altering the whole world! The city sounds are also adjusting to her outbursts, tuning every frequency to a high pitch, screaming like sounds into madness. Wherever she walks, she runs everyone mad. She wears her bad attitude with her short summer skirt, along with her long hair and her naked body under a thin fabric. It’s strange… her body was unable to feel any kind of pleasure but the same body can convert any man into a sex freak. Nature created her flawless body only to destroy the world. As she walks the city streets, she turns every breathing creature to madness. Shortly after, all her victims are puffing away into a grey and meaningless dust.
She reached the city limits and she turns around, staring at the tea cup. This time she smiles like a vindictive bitch… her whole body is trembling uncontrollably and every step she takes turns into another eternity. The beer bottle is rolling away from her thin fingers when, at the same time, the tea cup is braking on the kitchen floor. Soon enough, every sound is silent, every colour is grey, it’s impossible to escape it. With her eyes still opened, she can see a yellow field in the distance but the field is immune to her poison and never changes colour. Fear comes back…

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FIN

Roberto Palu