Archive for the ‘Allein’ Category

Then, nothing.

After the recent,

relatively pleasant

and stimulating,

interactions.

They left me alone.

Totally,

alone.

No contact.

Days passed.

And nothing.

Alone in my cell,

it used to be a refuge,

now it felt like hell.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

In captivity.

Alone,

since the last public torture,

the only audible voice my own

… whispers.

In peace (in a shitty little cell).

Safe from the madding masses.

Alone with my thoughts.

I inhale and exhale,

It’s beautiful to be aware of my every breath.

In peace.

At peace.

Solitary confinement.

Time and space to think.

It’s the ultimate in introspection!

Or is that just what they want me to think?

My captors, my manipulators,

they’ve been leaving me alone,

letting me be.

Indeed,

there’s always someone pulling the strings.

 

Inside.

In the cell.

Alone.

Sensory deprivation,

a strange kind of bliss.

No night, no day, no clock.

I no longer had any idea of time.

I had moved beyond the bounds of linear custody,

become free,

in a sense,

in captivity.

The thoughts in my head,

words spoken,

internal dialog,

a mixture of present, past and future.

“Screw grammar!” I said to myself tomorrow,

yesterday I will be free.

 

In my cell, I have no sexual desire,

per se.

But I do dream.

One night or day, I dreamt a dream of history and fact,

real and true, but bizarre.

Vienna.

The emperor,

an energetic innovator in many ways,

has chosen not to marry,

still, he has urges,

but proudly Catholic,

he believes masturbation is a self-indulgent sin,

so he satisfies himself by raping his gardener’s daughter, daily,

and visiting a brothel, treating the women roughly,

using and abusing,

sluts and low-lifes that (he believes) they are,

scum,

cum,

scum,

deplorable,

idiotic piety and blasphemy,

blood and bruises,

internal, external,

if only he’d been considerate enough to touch himself.

Hail to the emperor,

he is a paragon of shit!

At that point, my dream becomes a fantasy:

I dream that the women of Vienna,

The Holy Roman Empire in full,

mobilize on the puny prick

and rip him to shreds.

Come the revolution!

I wake up.

Everything was as it had been.

 

Prison.

A kind of prism.

Whatever imprisonment actually means,

besides bad luck…

Inside or outside,

to me,

there’s nothing better than solitary confinement,

indeed,

contrary to general perception,

it enriches the soul,

and offers a special kind of refinement,

if you’re receptive

and the right type.

Alas,

it breaks most,

and that’s what *they* want.

Me,

I must avoid Gen Pop at all costs!