Once in a while I sit down and let the author in me take over. I wrote the essay below while on a trip to the mountains. The most interesting part of the "writing process" was the dichotomy between what I wrote and my actual state. I was very far from the ocean, and very far from feeling sad or frustrated.
The waves twinkle. They reflect the light of the setting sun. My beloved poet, I’m sure, drowning in this beauty composed odes to this night. But she’s gone now. This night is worthy of tragedy, or of love, or of demons, or of sex, or of murder and death. It doesn’t matter. It’s intense. I hold my tears back as my stomach weaves nothing but knots. I can’t decide. Should I vomit? Cry? Scream? Jump? Who was he?
The water looks delicious. Look at the rocks below; so far. What a shame it would be to stain these rocks with putrid blood. No, can’t do it. Besides, why poison overwhelming beauty with the shit inside my veins? The breeze smells good.
“Your hair flows.” I smile. She’d never said that before. Why now? ”Were you crying?” Why the fuck does she always interrupt when I’m about to paint nature with red poison? “Hi. No just looking at the sunset” “Yes, beautiful”. So beautiful I suffocate.
Who was he? This mockery, this dissonance of colors oppresses me: pastel outside, black inside. Inside, there’s a war. The acid of this battle burns my heart. Ah, anger, how fun. My mouth sours. She caresses me. “Forgive me”, but I cringe and poisoned adrenaline fills my tears with rage. As I fake a smile, strain cracks my lips and red fills my mouth with a taste of sadness (Sadness tastes sweet. I am addicted to sweetness). I’m fed by red despair.
“Sorry this happened”. The waves splash the rocky beach below but the limestone, discontent, wants to suck my red. The rocks invite me. Are they dry sponges begging to be fed with blood? Curious. They crave poison; they’re like vampires addicted to sadness. The waves twinkle. They reflect the light of the red sun. I must paint nature red. I fly; I can fly! I crash on the rocks below. I ooze out of my limp body and decide to paint and color the limestone. Red. So beautiful, so sad, so sweet …. so dark.