Thursday, February 24

Oscar Wilde on Paper street

Mothers journal on the bed stand, a half full bottle of old raj gin on top. You must go through eight stages before you meet the devil. Eight stages of burning hell, then there’s only Cocytus left. A frigid pit of despair where sinners come to suffer

I pour another drink, gin on the rocks except I have no ice left and carefully flip through the pages. She rambles about Oscar Wilde, how he would have been the perfect husband and how she would have looked perfect with an 19th century background. The drink doesn’t help, doesn’t make it easier. I feel a sudden urge to change her words and look around desperately for a pen. There isn’t one pen in this god forsaken room. So I have no other choice but to tear out the page but it doesn’t cut it. It needs to vanish, it’s filled with her condescending words and lack of knowledge. When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire I think and start chewing (a page or two is easy to swallow)

There's a new blog out there, written by a girl who I have a feeling just might get IT. She just might be what is missing.

There's heaven and hell, there's good writers and awful ones. There's serpents and then theres Eve.


Kaleidoscope Girl said...

Jeez, I love Wilde and I think he's a literary genius but he doesn't come across as husband material hahahah.
Interesting post though, lovely.

Christopher said...

I'd marry Wilde just to shock people. Plus, he's so damn quotable, we'd be in the news nonstop.

Anonymous said...

i used to wish that i could read peoples minds. but sometimes, it is safer not knowing... but then that is the cowards way out.

Francesca said...

We can burn and destroy, but nothing ever fully disappears.

eva said...

dear belle, the link is broken, but if you look closer it's another one that wears a "fastest growing badge" - L.A. or uk, since when does that say quality? for me you have lost the secret once the PR redecoration happened to your blog. but i am sure it will work out the way you want it to. and this is what matters. good luck.

Tabs A. Geek said...

I think your mother was severely disillusioned if she thinks Wilde would have made a good husband. Someone to have around to start good conversation, maybe. But husband? Most likely not.