Reflections at the end of the year 2005
Reflect
reflection :
light beams from a source bouncing off something
– being aware – being a sentient being.
I want to be a being with consciousness.
I am a person, a living thinking creature not an automaton.
They want me to be an automaton, to not have a mind of my own, they would be happy if I did not reflect, so we are quiet.
They tried to keep me quiet, they put me in the bath and pushed my head under the water to stop me crying. But as I soon as I emerged I cried again.
They put me in a room by myself and shut the door so they did not hear me weeping.
They put their hands over their ears and grimaced but they could not block out the cries of pain and frustration.
They will not stop me.
I will express what I have to say.
The hands the clammy hands over my mouth, fumbling trying to get me to shut up – shut your bleeding mouth – shut your gob – shut it. Keep quiet. You will get a punch up the bracket if you continue.
It came out in other ways I filled exercise books page after page with incantations shit fuck cunt shit fuck cunt over and over written in tiny copperplate writing.
Outside swimming I would shout under the water, in slow motion in the chlorinated blue of the pool. I came up and broke the surface and involuntarily breathed with one almighty gulp of life affirming air filling my lungs to capacity.
Then I pulled myself out of the suction, the water.
reflection :
light beams from a source bouncing off something
– being aware – being a sentient being.
I want to be a being with consciousness.
I am a person, a living thinking creature not an automaton.
They want me to be an automaton, to not have a mind of my own, they would be happy if I did not reflect, so we are quiet.
They tried to keep me quiet, they put me in the bath and pushed my head under the water to stop me crying. But as I soon as I emerged I cried again.
They put me in a room by myself and shut the door so they did not hear me weeping.
They put their hands over their ears and grimaced but they could not block out the cries of pain and frustration.
They will not stop me.
I will express what I have to say.
The hands the clammy hands over my mouth, fumbling trying to get me to shut up – shut your bleeding mouth – shut your gob – shut it. Keep quiet. You will get a punch up the bracket if you continue.
It came out in other ways I filled exercise books page after page with incantations shit fuck cunt shit fuck cunt over and over written in tiny copperplate writing.
Outside swimming I would shout under the water, in slow motion in the chlorinated blue of the pool. I came up and broke the surface and involuntarily breathed with one almighty gulp of life affirming air filling my lungs to capacity.
Then I pulled myself out of the suction, the water.
posted by Keith Cooley at 5:48 AM
3 Comments:
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