2002-01-06 11:19:18 (UTC)

zitiert 2

2002-01-06 06:38:19

A drop of water falls from the wet rag, and onto the pile
of white powder sitting calmly, as calmly as a bomb, on my
stomach. A stomach I love. I've always loved my abs. One
of my best features, I've always thought. And that one
drop, followed by just a few other, melts the pile. At
first the body doesn't comprehend. Then, hell's flames.

In the searing pain of chemical burn, all things seem to
fade. Time speeds up. Seconds seem like minutes, the
minute seems like forever. In the back of my mind, the
small survival instinct reaches for vinegar. But, no. I
resist... and resist. And then... the pain becomes too
much, and the burning stops, but not the pain.

And then I see it all. How simple it is. In my mind the
thoughts paint over the pain. And I realize... what? That
life is beautiful? No. That... I've wasted too much?
No. That all comes later. I realize, at that moment, that
there is no divine truth. There is no answer. There isn't
a fight worth fighting in some small corner of the globe.
There is just life, all around. Life that will soon be
gone. Life that tears things up. The only truth to be
found is that nothing matters, and therefore, without any
loss, we are all free. If we can find a way to let
ourselves be.

ich bin froh darüber, daß das zitierte tagebuch eine
fortsetzung erfahren hat.