Sunday, January 20, 2008

Cone of Silence.

I'm not sure what other people do when they are alone.

I scream.

I scream when I'm driving my car and I start to think about how it rained yesterday and how spiders always like to find a place to hide when it rains and how my car was parked under that big old tree and I'll be driving down the road and I'll just start to fucking scream. I'll check all the mirrors to see if the spider is somewhere visible, or if it's crawling on the outside of the car waiting for me to open my window. I'll start to move my legs around. I can feel it crawling inside my jeans. I anticipate it's arrival at any moment and I fucking scream - a howl, a torrent of curses, an avalanche of terror - all tight and violence and compressed into a single moment. Driving back from the country it's worse. All those trees, all those spiders and it's night I'm driving down the freeway and it's dark and there's headlights coming at me and it's raining and trucks are everywhere and the spider is waiting and I know I'm not going to be able to calmly pull over, I mean, I know I'm going to fucking flip and why is that truck so fucking close and I'm gonna die man, I'm going to fucking die, this fucking spider is going to crawl on me and I'm going to lose all control and that truck can't fucking stop in time, it's going to fucking crush me man, any minute any minute I knew I shouldn't have parked under that fucking tree I should have parked in the driveway did I leave my fucking window open white knuckle white knuckle can they get in from underneath what the fuck was that WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck you FUCKING CUNT FUCKER CUNT. FUCK. AAAAARGH FUCK.

I scream, you know? I scream when I think how easily I could have hit that child standing by the side of the road. I scream when I remember how I behaved that night, after the tequila, in front of our friends, I scream when I think I could have made a difference, or how that path is closed forever, I scream when I want to fucking write, but all that comes is a piss vague stream of 6th form poetry, I scream when I believe in something, even if I am the only fucking person who does, I scream when I think about how fucking scared people are, I scream when I think no one else has the fucking guts to be as scared as I am, and to fucking show it or to fucking write it down, I scream when I think everyone is too fucking sedated to even feel fear, to even want to scream, they're afraid to scream, they're afraid of showing themselves, afraid of embarrassment, afraid of being the lost, the lonely, the damaged, the dumb, the worst, the needy, the screamer.

I scream at night, secretly, when everyone is asleep. I walk to the park, down by the creek, and climb the hill by the swings.

I wait for the silver face to show itself,
and I get naked,
and I fucking scream.

And goddamn,
it feels so fucking good.


  1. My friend josh likes to make up facts about spiders to hassle people who are scared. The other day he told someone that they like to drink out of the corners of people's mouths when they're sleeping. Then we came up with a list of celebrities who should get done in the arse...
    good times...

  2. apparently the average person has eaten like 8 spiders in their lives without knowing it.

    while they are asleep.