the creepy subconscious.

and i can't explain why my heart just went totally
cold.
dead.
i didnt realise it... but it was the only thing left alive in me at that point in time.
it was beating... rather furiously... up to that point.
then... it just went silent.
and resumed a hollow... deliberate beat.
very hollow.
and very deliberate.
and very, very final.
like steps towards the gallows.
something that i didnt even know existed, died.
when i thought there was nothing left to kill, something more died.
-rip the rest bloody and senseless with my bare hands... cease to exist!-
:)
i get the best inspiration when my conscious brain is dead tired.
i think it allows my subconscious to come to the fore and take control for a while.
(which makes me ask myself... WHAT scary stuff is in my subconscious...? )
it might be interesting to write a book with each page just a paragraph like the one on top.
small snippets which pack a punch.
i feel... marilyn manson-ish~
***
OH! OH! i just remembered another bit of inspiration which struck me a while back.
let me get it out before i forget.
***
pinched between fingers on two corners...
hardly an expanse of white
little furry fibres, all bound together into a neat square.
pulling slowly... each pair of fingers in a different direction...
sometimes jerkily..
the tissue tears with a delicious sound, giving way under the opposing directions...
the wound is surprisingly straight.
but the edges are... ragged...