Red Glow
"You're the master of whisperers, you're supposed to know everything" - King Joffrey Baratheon
The other night I decided to roam the city streets after hours. During the day, downtown Salem is a stale place, void of anything inspiring to me, but at night it becomes an enchanting forest haunted by the hungry, welcoming to the weary, and foreboding to those who live their lives only in the daylight. I walked up and down each narrow alley, casually, driven by a desire to locate the source of my own existence. I investigated the dimly lit nooks and crannies like a rodent would looking for crumbs. I stood silently, with my face upturned toward the dark sky, while a cool drizzle covered my naked head. I passed by several others; humans of the night lunging in and out of the shadows like ghosts in the making. Those of us who dare to explore the sadness of a sleeping city enter an agreement with each other: the randomness of the night becomes our play thing; our temporary home. And it is up to us to take what we discover and bring it into the daylight for the rest of you to see. Treasures found. Cryptic messages. The fragmented clues of the unborn. It's all there just beneath the surface, past the shadows, echoing within the night. As I was about to leave and travel back home I was greeted by a lone woman, bent inward into her own madness, ranting loudly at a store front. While part of me feels a little guilty for recording her, another part of me is completely fascinated by the human mind, especially when it cracks into a chaos that resembles spilled poetry. Here is what she had to say:
Transcript:
The other night I decided to roam the city streets after hours. During the day, downtown Salem is a stale place, void of anything inspiring to me, but at night it becomes an enchanting forest haunted by the hungry, welcoming to the weary, and foreboding to those who live their lives only in the daylight. I walked up and down each narrow alley, casually, driven by a desire to locate the source of my own existence. I investigated the dimly lit nooks and crannies like a rodent would looking for crumbs. I stood silently, with my face upturned toward the dark sky, while a cool drizzle covered my naked head. I passed by several others; humans of the night lunging in and out of the shadows like ghosts in the making. Those of us who dare to explore the sadness of a sleeping city enter an agreement with each other: the randomness of the night becomes our play thing; our temporary home. And it is up to us to take what we discover and bring it into the daylight for the rest of you to see. Treasures found. Cryptic messages. The fragmented clues of the unborn. It's all there just beneath the surface, past the shadows, echoing within the night. As I was about to leave and travel back home I was greeted by a lone woman, bent inward into her own madness, ranting loudly at a store front. While part of me feels a little guilty for recording her, another part of me is completely fascinated by the human mind, especially when it cracks into a chaos that resembles spilled poetry. Here is what she had to say:
Transcript:
“The heart your father gave me, it’s hollow. My chest is
dead like a cracked carcass. I can’t feel this; it’s not going to do anything
for me. I have to be loved. I have to love. I don’t have a mate, that’s
disgusting. I don’t know what you want. Ya’ll bit me on my scrotums,
everything. I needed those. These men and me. I don’t know what you want.
Fifteen years they’ve been saying that. I love sin. All these ladies, I don’t
know what you want. All these blind ladies that you’re supposed to be singing to.
To attract them to you. So I can be loved. Love. I don’t know what you want.
You’re invincible; I need you physically. I told you I don’t and I don’t need
you and I don’t want you. Invincible. You can’t tell me if you’re going to
fucking stay alive or not. I needed you. Write that one down. And that’s not
me, I do it natural. I already protected and sealed these baby boys. Literally.
I already protected and sealed everyone. You’re trading me. My water is gone
because you put a great prostitute on me. She’s eating me dead. Your crumbled
bitch. I don’t know what you want. You’re sinning. You can’t tell me which one
of you’s are gonna stay alive, that’s my decision. I don’t know what you want.
I want your father’s musical heart beating in my big chest with my big breasts.
I didn’t say that. My hands. Where’s my bat hands with my red glowing
fingertips? My healing power I have to love. I have to. Now I’m dying with
three hundred billion people taking it. We’ve already been in four to five
boxes. I’m suffocating. I know how I need it, it’s pertinent. Burgeoning. I don’t know what you want,
you’re invincible. I think you’re being judged from ships you’re shrinking me.
I can’t collect myself the way you wanted me to. It had to be done one step at
a time; that’s how I needed it and now I can’t do anything. What am I gonna be?
What am I gonna be, demons? What am I gonna be? I can’t hang out with my
family. What am I gonna do? My back is fucking broken. We haven’t fucking…
we’re tense as fucking hell man. It’s not funny. You don’t fucking do that to
me. And then spread it out. What about me? There’s a bunch of old ladies in
here. Look at what you did to me. I had already done all that. I don’t know.
These people they have family members. Friends. It’s not only the people in the
pictures. You gotta judge. Step in front of the thrones and get judged.”
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