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Among An Unnamed Female Person Known Within Mine Black Barbed Ken
Among an unnamed female person known within mine black barbed ken Analogous to black box holding untold secrets, (after deadly plane crash no survivors except a journeyman foreigner), I share the following self introspection with ye dear readers, which purported hidden truths might set me free and clear, albeit laborious effort to loose constituent amalgamated compound elements unmined tantamount to agony riddling psyche effort to extract thorny matters incumbent upon me analogously synonymous with Androcles and the lion think Roman mythology whoops (Greek: ??d??????, alternatively spelled Androclus in Latin). Oftimes methinks... whoami spending scores of years with frustrated sigh hermetically sealing - waxed body electric housing generic garden variety guy as prepubescent severely, physically, mentally emotionally tormented contemplating, foregoing existence, integrating, blithely urging wish to die even at this moment, still doth not reluctantly shy away to embrace death wholeheartedly simultaneously, naturally nor would I try putting anonymous life (mine) on the line, though..., nevertheless envisioning rejoicing (as told to significant other - the missus naturally averse to my demise well nigh) without ability to explain why per se if mortal ailment truncated corporeal constituent collective comprising mein kampf Noel cowardly lie, cuz becoming gratefully dead try not to laugh while yours truly cannot deny permanent absence mine decoupling from humanity, no longer linkedin with consciousness, I recognize hard skool of knocks alumni soul finally free to roam spiritual realm posthumously making his name sake (synonymous with introvertedness) deceased modest mortal hallowed human, though the foregone feted occasion beholds mine future no longer entwined with the missus, whence cessation as breathing being decades into the future whereby mine cremated ashes subsequently scattered across reconstituted secluded terrain once expanse of one hundred acre woodland populated with poo poo ticky tacky, about a half century ago partitioned into cookie cutter vinyl city occupying happy hunting grounds witnessing abundant flora and fauna, where Glen Elm estate (an expansive demesne formerly occupied by the Leipers) razed; within corner abode (at crossroads of Stoughton and Level Roads) wherein dwelled Williams family (offspring grown and senior citizens, the eldest daughter happily residing in Carhibeg, Rosscarberry county Cork Ireland) to me, a garden variety generic guy forsaken atrophied opportunity loosed, whisked, and zapped... toward sheltering sky linkedin love never did transpire, hence moot point absent wedding bells did not require men to don black tie, only selfish sexagenarian mourns angst peppered soul, whence death do me part banshee will signify all quiet on western front forever reunify me with cosmic consciousness eternal ally.
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Harris. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs