inb4 emo
Frank Turner
Richard Divine
Richard Divine made up his mind to take the last few steps to the bathroom door from his bedroom floor and to lock himself in. Steady young hands, meticulous plans, disposable razors and a blisterpack filled with strong sleeping pills, and a bath of hot water. He carefully wrote a funerary note on his best writing paper to set out the facts, and sealed it with wax, and left it in the kitchen. He left it out so his parents would know what there was waiting for them: pale cold skin and blood seeping in to the landing carpet. He said hes not for sale, said that he felt hounded, crowded and surrounded by this life he didnt choose. But everybody plays this game on a daily basis. Theyre not heroes, theyre survivors, and its not Shakespearian if they lose. So do what you want, do what the voices tell you, but dont ever say that we didnt warn you. He said hes not for sale, but he bought into his failure. Hes telling tales that hammer nails right into open palms. A martyr in reverse, hes best at being worst, the rest of us are cursed but we keep calm and we carry on. So Richard, here it is: none of us are blameless, huddled here like strangers, shameless in our lists of all the changes we say we need. But I think that you knew that, you cant pretend its news that when you cut yourself youll bleed.
This post was edited by Gorikain on Dec 3 2009 11:47pm