Tuesday, November 17, 2009

兩周一聚(26): 寫給自己的信

My one and only,

Rumor says touching you would drive me mad,
as well as the listeners.

I really thought it’d be my murmuring that does the job.

And then I read somewhere -
“If you are suffering from any nervous disorder,
you should not play it.

If you are not yet ill,
you should not play it.

If you are feeling melancholy,
you should not play it.

(You) excessively stimulates the nerves,
plunges the player into a nagging depression
and hence
into a dark and melancholy mood
that is apt method for slow self-annihilation.”

Yes yes yes,
I am well aware of
my problems
and
my stubbornness.

Yet there’s nothing
I enjoy
more than
listening to your
high pitch screams
and
low pitch moans.

Rubbing my
wet finger on you
is the only way
I
feel
alive.

Going mad?
(Perhaps)

Being depressed?
(Usually)

Killing myself slowly?
(Always)

But who the fuck cares?

As long as
you are
my
armonica.

From,
Me to you and to me.
 
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