“I have had a really strange day. But it was worth it.
How many of you ever felt like there’s a thousands, literally a thousands of words, ideas, thoughts, feelings, confessions, suggestions, ideas, epitaphs, speeches, eulogies – you name it – just being born under the bone cape of your skull, filling in your empty body and making it almost tense? How many of you ever felt like there’s a slightest, tiniest border between you and the eternity – not the death, but the imagination in flesh, twisting in its own whirlwind nature, catching your eye and giving back more than just a spectacular view – no, fuck no! The passion. The aura. The overwhelming feeling of being belong to. The astonishing pleasure of being a part of something greater, hidden beyond something so pale – yet hidden from others. It’s out of words, languages, gestures, stares, poses, time, love, infinity; it may have eaten the world you built inside on a breakfast and didn’t even mention that while proceeding with someone else’s past-n-future.
It’s beyond my own capability of thinking, not to say describing, it takes any joy you could name out of the league and leaves it in a road dirt in the night far in the forest with no way back to the life you used to.
How many of you? How many?
Am I? Did I?
What am I? I’m not asking “who”, it’s the whole other world. You say “who” – and you get shitload of different words people describe you with. But do they satisfy your reality, do they have what they ought to? No. Never. Even your closest friend couldn’t know what’s in your deepest of heart, and if one does, then pity you, the fool. I don’t mean to offend anyone, but hey, if you have no mind to lurk, we have nothing to talk about.
Secrets? Forget about secrets. Internet got you. Gossips got you. Matrix has you, bloody Neo, it has your guts with your name on them, subscripted and agreed on everything before you ever had a chance to live it through, not to say remember it. We live in a time when the more and more information comes to and comes from, and among those pathetic metaphore of roads there are spies.
I don’t care about conspiracy theories, or UFOs, or Insiders, as they called (if I remember correctly). I want you to stop feeling safe. There are viruses for a system with a fruit logo, face it. There are trees growing from a bloody concrete, and you say something about secrecy? In your face, right in your face.
Imagination? No! You’re given As and Bs, you can’t build a helicopter out of them, so you only need to be estimated right – and there you go, pick-pocketed before you went to bed, straight out of your perception, premonition, whatsthename.
Dreaming? Subconciousness. Unconciousness. Blow of eternal wind that somehow touched you may be another periodic table of elements, all backwards and upside down. But it won’t. You live in the world you think of as of discovered one. You may leave your “comfort zone”, but you’ll never leave a nohosphere – the area of mankind, both material and immaterial, syntethic and genetic, your architypes bow before their DNA-towers of safety.
What’s that all about?
Have you ever felt faded? Not drunk faded, not 420 or something worse faded. No, faded as a shadow behind you goes pale, faded as your contour couldn’t be drawn anymore.
So I say : fade away. Fade away, if you want to. Forget Kurt Cobain with his “better burn out than to fade away”, he did what he said, but what’s left? Songs – ok, leave it be. Shitload of gossips, “it’s all was payed for” stuff – oh, okay, next. Would YOU like to be remembered as an artist whos last view was a bloody scary mess of brain and whatnot on a wall behind, with your jaw clinching on the gun metal ? Or, say, pills? There’s no beauty in death brought upon you by yourself. There’s never been.
Ask all the people who got left behind (let’s face it harsh) someone’s ego. Oh, sure, tell me it was care why someone ends his life by any reason whatsoever. Except, I must say, for a war heroes with their “my life for the life of others”. That scares me more than any suicide. Maybe because I don’t think I’m able to follow that path, maybe because I may feel a willing to do so. Most likely, I’ll either drown under information war’s fire – or fade away.
Fade. Fade away. It’s the way it’s supposed to be. One’s sunset is a dawn for others.
Don’t be afraid. Don’t feel safe. Don’t care about that at all, you shouldn’t.
Take your choice. And choose wisely, there’s no thirtd path. There’s never been.
Embrace everything you have had and let the dreams fill you. After all, you born them, no matter on what kind of ground or background. No matter who fed them, who nursed them, cared about them. WHY would you need to think of that?
Take it with a joy. There is one.
I feel it. I know it. I was there.
Fade away with dignity. And I salute you from the deepest of my very soul.
If I myself have left some for me to carry on.
Fade away.
R.I.”
Suddenly, the display switched off and went very bright. Richard closed his eyes, and under the closed eyelids burned the words he was afraid of.
“How long would your desert let you think YOU are safe?
Come. You know the place. You know exactly, better than anyone else.
See you there.
I.“
“It happenned? Was I reading the words I kept whispering to myself?
I found the old cable, plugged it on and took the other side.
Electropalm. Suits any possible hand, but full of little details. Never got any older than the first time I saw it at my granddad’s place.
I take all the pills and booze I can take. I don’t really want to. I don’t feel like it would matter.
Did I tell them I was there? Well, here I go again.
my eyes are closing, and I almost hear the sand
Fade away with dignity, huh?”
Fade away.
root 