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  • Writer's pictureryanmatta

END OF THE ROPE





START…

I took one of those new "Thought" producing enzyme tablets, and planned to destroy myself with it. It was a preemptive full force blitz of free will, and as far as I could see the only logical course of action to take, it's nice when the right thing and the only thing to do are one and the same. There was a lot of competition out there from Pharmacists, prophets: all using gibberish to try and coax me into jumping the rusty fence and playing a never ending game ofneglected lots. They tried burning promises into tissues with magnifying glasses.But who ever built this barn I call me, I was going to tear it down. Few of us have the courage to go by free wiI1, but I was sure as Hell going to go by free thought, one glance down at the smiling yellow faces that decorated the surface of t'he acid blotter, and I knew it was going to be okay. Ahead of me may be a battlefield to march, a volcano to quench, an ocean parch. Everything would be fine.As the rats began to chew through the top of my scalp toward my quickly liquifying thoughts, I brought on by the lullaby that was whistling through the freshly hollowed space between my ears, I knew that what the rats didn't eat would be me, my mind to keep.

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