Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Macabre

Some things, they shock and haunt, searing themselves into your memory, leaving a scar that can never be erased. Some things, you don't know whether to weep at the dark beauty of it, or whether to scream and cringe from the horror. You stare, entirely captivated, eyes languidly perusing what you see, absorbing every detail, etching it all into your memory. You want to look away, horrified by the image, and yet it strangely enthrals you and you cannot tear your eyes away.

You stand there for a seemingly infinite time, so long that you can almost feel your body age. You hear the clock, its slow, heavy, rhythmic melody telling of the seconds which tick by. What will happen when time and luck run out?

You shall recall the images for the rest of your existence; they will burst forth and flicker before your eyes in the most unexpected of times, jolting you from reality into something darker, more sinister, and yet, entirely fictional. But its fictional nature does not overthrow its haunting nature. You shall never forget the first time you saw it, and it snatched your breath away, leaving you gasping for air, the pain in your chest mounting for the lack of oxygen.

Life isn't worth living without those moments that take your breath away. And beauty, even the darkest, most haunting kind, means nothing if you don't carry it with you in your soul.

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