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The Diary of Isabelle Christina...another entry

Contributed by Euphoria on Friday, 30th August 2002 @ 07:06:45 AM in AEST
Topic: oops




Entry: Rolling Dough
Time: 2:30Am
Place: Andheri Galee, Karachi

The beggar maid lay on the road side not saying a word; it seemed as if her head was heavy from the beating she had received from her husband…so she took to this quiet road until she could get away from his ugly gloominess and the vile smell of his sweat. Yet, I could hear the scream trapped in her throat…I could see her screaming….she wanted to tell her story

Sometimes we don’t really need to talk in order to talk….and we don’t really need people to talk to…we can talk to ourselves, or converse with silence itself….the silence which observes and is the historian of our society…a silence trapped inside a sarcophagus of time…

I’m bursting at the seams right now, this cold winter breeze that comes from yonder bites my skin, and loneliness of the most profound kind envelopes my body…I must break free…. someone talk to me ….help me escape the bonds of reality!...turn down the radio…switch off the lights…I’ll kill the newscaster…no more news of Palestine...please….and I don’t have the time or the money to save Kashmir…will you just leave me the hell alone!!!!!!!!

“Feeling imperceptive tonight Isabelle...look at me….I’m talking to you...down here by your foot!”... I had to stop staring at the beggar maid for a while…the voice in my head was killing me….I looked down and saw it…dirty…crinkled… nonetheless valuable…it was a hundred rupee note…I screamed and kicked it…’I see you like to kick wealth out of your way…or do you fear the uncanny?...you wanted a story didn’t you Isabelle?...come my sweets…it is our night just you and me…” and some how I could not escape the trance…the shadows grew and I felt I was trapped inside the cave of my head with echoes surrounding me…fearing what spoke…as if it were a goblin…

“I’ve been around…like a whore…tested , tried, touched…yet they want me again and again…do you know what I’ve seen…perhaps the real faces of men that they never expected to reveal…I know all about them and their dark fantasies…what they are capable of…I have seen them sell their souls to the devil…and I have seen even the finest drool…who am I anyways…just paper…and I still manage to rule your minds…just paper...good enough to wipe your butt…but would you?...even the man who has more of the likes of me cant imagine throwing me away….I can feel that you want to pick me up Isabelle and stuff me in your pocket…why deny the urge Isabelle…they say a poor man is a happy man for he has little to care for…they lie…a poor , HUNGRY man is the evilest of all and he will surrender to anything…” I ran so I could hide form its grimace, its truth pierced my eyes…I wanted run…let me go you bast**d…let me go!... “tired already…so much is left to be said yet…undone…always leave a little too early Isabelle … coward… spineless creature…o my darling…isn’t it funny…when they have me they presume they own me…when it is I who owns them…and every time they pass me around , it develops with in me an insatiable desire to wield more power all over , to hold them and subject them to ignominy and the pain of wanting me….I want to…like an evil seductress move into their minds so that they have no escape….pick me up Isabelle!!!!....pick me up…love me….I came rolling at your feet…at your door….I can give you so much…pick me up…..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” and it started to chuckle as if it were mad… an uncontrolled, wild laugh escaped its throat…” see that tramp by the road, I raped her desires and dreams…rolled right of her palm and under you feet…she wants me…look at her….hahahahahahahah”

I watched in horror as the sound seemed to grow louder and louder and louder in my head…the vanity of wealth that had turned crazy, its sorry state brought tears to my eyes, all I could say, all I wanted to say was “Leave me alone......please….someone turn off the lights….I want to sleep now…end this relentless nightmare…that surrounds our very lives...please”

I had spent the night on a wooden bench, the crows call woke me…it was time for me to move on now…. The fit of madness is over…back to so called reality…shall be back some other day…some other time.






Copyright © Euphoria ... [ 2002-08-30 07:06:45]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: The Diary of Isabelle Christina...another entry (User Rating: 1 )
by LOWMAN613 on Tuesday, 22nd October 2002 @ 06:50:14 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
All I can say is WOW!




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