Tuesday, January 31, 2012

To kill or not to kill

No, I'm not that articulate with what I say. I feel more articulate with the blood that I dripped, the bones that I carved and the screams that I record.

One by one they approached me, thinking what a beauty I am. They know not of glee and joy that I will obtained from them. They are worthless monkey, perched on top of the tree. Vying my hand as if I'm their golden fruit. Let them try, let them fight, let them be the monkey that they are. Let one of them prevail as the winner. Approach me as if I'm the prize. I let them, I submit to their wishes, for when the time comes, my joy and happiness comes from them.

Yes, when the time comes. Let the time slowly crawl to me. I will wait patiently. For then I will no longer be the prize. Blood shall be shed, for that is one of the things that brings me joy. Scream, scream and scream out your beautiful voice. Let it out and let it be hoarse. I shall bring you hot tea and warm honey to ease your throat, then I shall make you scream and scream again. The whiteness of your bones shall be a delight for me, I'll treasure and carve something momentous in it. You will be forever ingrained with a piece of me.

Ah, the joy, the happiness it is a fleeting moment. I shall be prepared for another monkey race, to be the prize they after and to wait for that moment of joy and happiness.

Jakarta, 31 January 2012