Buried in me, I was – Probably still am. Much I became most alienated to my deeply held religious axioms, chained to a fate of dependence. Became worth the protectors hitherto warned about – a caricature (hopefully) of insanity!
Who was I to question the allergic shell. That which gave me a name – a name I never requested for, per my own volition, of course. The discretion that could be best deemed at that point – an abyss beyond all that ever lived – beyond the erotic sensations of men.
I was forged into crust – answerable to history, HIStory, answerable to the cumulative beings – to assume the X Factor was unworthy of man’s concern. Worms feeding my soul, gradually scrapping the core of me for my own good, they seemed to.
And yet there thrived the other parasite – the grand inward dissonancy spiced with the ordained treasure, or maybe, curse! In prison I was, for the grievious crime – to attempt a transcendence into the skies? Perhaps another alienating venture.
Was I not a fool? Did he not reaffirm their prejudices? After all, never was I fortunate to be that flesh I ate daily. If he were wise, enough, he would’ve for the slightest upon mastication plucked all her feathers – the very satiation with which accompanied with it a Stairway to HEAVEN – BLOOM or better still doom. Not the chords from the Asian Page next-door but from the Plant inwards.
What did I become? How can I, man still wielding the very same physiology suddenly feel, without a hushness, think of himself so alienated from himself – the background.
Was it I? Or they? How dare he take a crack at such a blasphemous, boisterous hypothesis – to even conceive in the slightest – contemplate they all better got it wrong. I am mad.
However, don’t lock me up to those nutty professors, wait, professionals who assume they’ve transcended my inherent flaw. I cannot be less informed about the power of you, the masses. Human welfare has suffered enough from your volition, enough for I to have an infinitesimal blindspot towards. Let me on the loose, in exhibition to all, to sundry, then learn as I give you an indication into the very limits you’ve always aimed at not experiencing for yourself. Mad, Lost, I am!
Achaab Daniel ABALANSA