I gaze at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Behind layers of ancient caked-on grease and soot I see someone who used to resemble me once.
I can hear the beat. The drums in my head. The tribal, rhythmic, incessant pounding of the drums. I sit on the toilet and cradle my face in my hands. The sound is too intense. Too primitive. Crippling. Quieter still I hear the song of the sirens. Somewhere across the sea on a desolate shore of black sand they sing to me. They beckon me back into their world. Into the savage land. They know that I know the ship is moored at dock, quietly creaking and swaying. A solitary lantern is hung upon the watchtower. The light breeze perpetually smacking it against the wood with a dull clang. Inside the abandoned captains quarters you would find a loaded gun and a snuff box containing all sorts of wondrous delectables.
I know I'm stronger than this.
10 comments:
Been to this place many a time - sailing past the shores of Sirens that is. I have to say the last line of this one particularly rung true and honest - I often said that and often been wrong.
Sorry to have missed a few posts too - I have a 6-day-old boy living with us now.
The temptation of youth and past experience can be a difficult obstacle to ignore.
You are stronger.
In the mean time, steer clear of the abandoned captains quarters, or I'll make you walk the plank.
Arrrgh.
you are stronger
but even if you are not...for a moment
you are always a survivor.
your scars, beautiful
your tales, exciting
either way...we, your readers, win
at the expense of your vivid experience.
What GD said cuz that was good.
Good piece, although if it's a desolate shore, how come 'they' are singing?? Hmmm just a thought not critique.
Ruksak. Despite whether we are right or wrong everything somehow seems to fall into place in the end regardless.
Colonialave. Walk the plank? Is this before or after you have me swab the deck and peel potato's?
G.D. and either way I win because I have readers... no, friends... such as yourself. Beautiful words spoken from one survivor to another.
Vex. Just steer clear of those icebergs Vex and everything should be all right. Who knows what distant shores you may find yourself on?
Admin. Because the song of the sirens is synonymous with temptation. That song could make even the best of men forget about life, and duty, and simply sit in rapt attention.
It was also a reference to the Odyssey by Homer.
You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever,
But you rode upon a steamer to the violence of the sun.
Man, you seem to be a little blue. May I recommend a four hour Three Stooges marathon.
All Curleys.
No Shemps.
i am so glad you chose this title.it's one of my cherished words (in the light of this, you have no trouble believing what a teenage pest i am...i don't do little hearts on i's though....), perhaps because it means "people" in hungarian, perhaps because it's the english title of a hungarian novel who's literal translation is "the candles burning til there is none left", a novel turned into a play with jeremy irons, who looks like he has had AIDS for a decade but is still exceedingly seductive....yes, as you can tell from this nonsensical illogical useless comment, I am very grateful and glad that someone has used this glorious word....laters, Messenger.
that's what makes us now, scars and past experiences.
Muah.
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