This is quite a find and something deeply, deeply personal. It is a stream of consciousness that I wrote when I was homeless and suicidal, living on my office floor in Glasgow a number of years ago. I spent most of my time alone and had just lost my home, all my money and my partner of 7 years. I awoke on my floor after a typically uncomfortable night’s ‘rest’ and the instant my consciousness came-to I felt a sudden and painful realisation and heartache as I awoke. I immediately wrote what came into my head as a coping mechanism and tried to find some sense in my longing for darkness, ignorance and ultimately the release of non-being. It is without doubt overtly poetic but such angst tends to be so. I found it, suddenly, after not having seen it since that morning, now at least 4-5 years ago, and I found it strangely insightful and shows the power of hope. Despite the reasons for its existence I felt compelled to publish it with my other writing. So here is me being romantically morbid. One Love.
Waking to see the morning’s light, I ache. I ache to feel the caress of night and the embrace of her eternal blanket – void. The fire of birth and the agonised screams of newborn terror echo through the coming of creation’s dawn; and burns my eyes. I call to my womb-mother, void, to sooth my pain and yet the only soothing comes then from the very tears that trespass my fear of the new-found world. I squeeze tight my burning eyelids and pray for the dark, for the night and for the end. For the end of days. Where, as all light finally passes through the point, at the end of my mind’s tunnel; one of my myriad deaths becomes me. I pray for my ego’s flight. Free. No longer blind. No longer bound. Free to explore an infinite array of childish foolery in the imagination’s playground, where the Gods and I take flight, and fancy, and refuge, forever among the sea of possibility and among the stars. Those beautiful, awesome stars of hope, the heart of which recalls my love of Other and reminds me once more of the light at creation’s dawn. Reminds me once more of the fire of birth. Now, reborn, my eyes reform and I awaken to see what it is that I have created.