Alien Landscape

letters of the end.

your letters are always written on blue paper with dark red ink. deep red rose juice. your alphabets intimate and seductive in its miniature curves and teasing strokes. your letters are morbid. as if the world has been massacred and the blood of earth has stained the sky. but you make it in a way such that i know that in the end there really is no one but you and i.

drenched in ink, blood and tears as the artists blew themselves up in their last desperate attempt of greatness. to die in explosions and screams and scatter their words and colours across a dead world for us to see. the final works, my friend. the ultimate stories, songs, pictures and poetry. for you and i both.

i tore your last letter because it was the only thing that had colour when i saw the world through obstinate tears. everything else was grey and melting. dripping. dying.

but your letter was iridescent. in the midst of all the grey and black, it was painful. so i tore it up into pieces of red-dotted blue and threw it in the air. the pieces still burned with technicolour as it floated, swayed and fell. as it touched the grey, everything caught fire.

there were piercing whines of agony from unknown sources. there was rapid muttering and spittle flying all over. it was quite a din.

my contact is to the right. email me so you can answer a most pressing question:

who are you?

Posted by NHJ 2/17/2006 06:09:00 pm

Friday, February 17, 2006