Scream
< style="font-family: arial;">Pathi’s gone for the night. He’ll be back in the morning. He killed three policemen last night. The martyrs’ families rioted and in the bargain more policemen were killed. A state of Chaos that had been brought into control. But chaos all the same. He’s managed to escape detection but he cannot hide forever. He will not hide forever. It’s only a matter of time before Pathi dances with chaos. I still don’t know how. It doesn’t really matter anymore. I fight for my sanity. I try to. Pathi is not real. I just made him up in a silly story. He scares me. I do not know his mind. I do not know anything anymore. Everything confuses me. I try to make sense of it all but fuck it man! It’s too fucking much. This is what I cling to. As long as I know that I’m all fucked up I’m sane. The minute I think this is all fine and dandy ? That’s when I’m insane.
>Pathi came home last night with a woman. She was dead when he got her. I don’t know what he did with her. Pathi ignores me. I think I can escape now. But running and hiding was never an option. I sit here. Every day. Waiting. This is all going to reach flashpoint soon enough. I must be there for endgame.
Pathi has not gifted me anything else. A part of me is disappointed. He feeds me still and lets me have free reign of my house. Why am I thankful about it. My fucking house. His house too now. His house too.
Welcome to Endgame sold ten million copies in India. I’m sitting and chatting with Simi Garewal. How does she keep her clothes so spotless white ? Screams. I ride in a limousine wear Armani and smoke Havana. Screams. I sleep with the most beautiful women in India. I’m a fucking celebrity. Screams. Nothing drowns the screams coming from the next room. Not one of my million fantasies can block the screams. Pathi got him with him when he came in. He refuses to die. Just screams and screams and screams. How long can a man go on screaming ? For as long as it hurts I guess. Pathi is relentless. The man screams. I’m in the middle. Like a tomato between two slices of bread. I need help. I cannot do this on my own. Help.
>Pathi came home last night with a woman. She was dead when he got her. I don’t know what he did with her. Pathi ignores me. I think I can escape now. But running and hiding was never an option. I sit here. Every day. Waiting. This is all going to reach flashpoint soon enough. I must be there for endgame.
Pathi has not gifted me anything else. A part of me is disappointed. He feeds me still and lets me have free reign of my house. Why am I thankful about it. My fucking house. His house too now. His house too.
Welcome to Endgame sold ten million copies in India. I’m sitting and chatting with Simi Garewal. How does she keep her clothes so spotless white ? Screams. I ride in a limousine wear Armani and smoke Havana. Screams. I sleep with the most beautiful women in India. I’m a fucking celebrity. Screams. Nothing drowns the screams coming from the next room. Not one of my million fantasies can block the screams. Pathi got him with him when he came in. He refuses to die. Just screams and screams and screams. How long can a man go on screaming ? For as long as it hurts I guess. Pathi is relentless. The man screams. I’m in the middle. Like a tomato between two slices of bread. I need help. I cannot do this on my own. Help.
1 Comments:
nicely done.
i'm getting tired of putting up compliments. from now on unless specified otherwise just assume compliment given.
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