My throat is a bottleneck, in which all my words get crushed.

There are many things that I mustn’t acknowledge. The words still try to come out – they all try to escape at once and get stuck to the roof of my mouth or cling to the tip of my tongue. I can’t say a word because I have too much to say about people who either can’t or don’t want to speak to me.

The words I use are the ones that other people don’t like to hear. I have a knack for saying the wrong thing at the worst time. I don’t think. I think too much.

I’m losing my fucking mind. You mean nothing. You mean everything.

Take me away.

I tore up most of my notes. I still have questions, but I no longer feel the need to ask them. I don’t think I’m allowed to ask them. I’m being kept in the dark, left out in the cold, with only tattered paper ribbons for company.

This is somehow the story of my life. Thank you for reading it.

The ambivalence of ‘I hope…’ vs. ‘I don’t care…’ and the need for repression/expression. I want to tell you everything I find too painful to talk about. I don’t give a fuck but I’m “hopelessly hopeful”.

The word ‘hope’ used to also mean a feeling of trust.

I wash my mouth out with hope.

15 thoughts on “Refrain

    1. Thank you so much. You mentioned Rimbaud to me before, actually… I still haven’t gotten round to reading Illuminations though! (My to-read list is ridiculous, I need to reorganise it.)

        1. Oh, don’t apologise – I was thinking about it the other day, so it was fresh in my memory! And thank you… I actually worry quite a bit that I don’t really sound original. Everything I write reads back to me like a crappier version of the works of my favourite writers.

          1. I read The Drunken Boat this afternoon – it’s great, I particularly love the last three verses. The imagery is amazing. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write that well, but I’m glad you can see a hint of something vaguely like it muddled in with all the rubbish!

          2. Yes, when he suggests it’s all a child’s imagination – he was an obsessive reader of travel and adventure books as a child. I imagine you went on such a journey. I did, back then.

          3. Yes! Absolutely. I lived in my own little world as a kid, books were my only escape. I didn’t really grow out of that, actually…

    1. Sometimes, definitely. But then sometimes you don’t know for sure, and you have to decide whether it’s worth finding out. And sometimes still, you just need to hear that person say whatever they’re going to say so that you’re not forever holding on to a glimmer of (false) hope.

  1. Never stop writing. I know I’ve said it before and you’ve promised not to, but I felt the need to say it again because of the post partially.

    I should prob get some semblance of sleep…or at least try once again too.

    Goodnight…or in your case good morning.

    Cheers! 😉

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