sirspamalot

[sirspamalot]

134

    The car jerks along the road at a nice, panic-inducing 127 miles an hour. The sort of speed that threatens to send you tumbling off of the road if you so much as flick the steering wheel. The driver is one of the last humans left alive. And I am too, at least, I was until I died a few hours ago. Just before he found my body. Starved to death in my car. What a shame. He’s pretty attractive. Maybe we could have made this place our Garden of Eden. Adam and…I don’t remember my name. I forgot it a long time ago. Things like that don’t matter after the world ends. He’s talking to me now, the curtains open and the audience quiets. Silence in the theatre, everybody. “You smell kind of bad. Actually, I’m not going to sugarcoat it, you smell terrible. I forgot just how bad rotting flesh smells. It’s sort of nostalgic.” How poetic. I think I love him. “Y’know, it’d been so long since I’d seen anyone that I really thought for a minute that you would be alive when I opened the car door. That by some providential means, you would snap awake at my touch. But no, you just kind of stared at me with that dead gaze. Your eyes are a really pretty hazel by the way. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen eyes that aren’t completely disgusting I guess.” God, his words are saccharine. Each one seems so sensuous, the way they clamber into my ears. It gets a girl going. Or maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve been with a man. “I think it’s been…seven years since I last saw a living person. Seven or eight. Yeah, that sounds about right. And your body was so fresh compared to the others-but don’t get the wrong idea-so I guess I wanted to make the most of that and go on a drive with you. I know you’re not alive, but you were only a little while ago. It’s something right? Who knows, maybe only yesterday you were warm and thinking thoughts about…things.” Oh wow, he just looked at me. I feel like a moron being slumped against the passenger seat like this. But baby, keep your eyes on the road. I’d hate to see your beautiful face mangled like so many others. “I really hope that you’re not judging me. It’s just that it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to anybody besides myself. I needed to vent to someone.” Vent away. I’m not leaving anytime soon. “But I guess now that I have the opportunity, I’m not totally sure where to even start…” He’s been quiet for a few minutes now. I really hope that I didn’t make things awkward. I think maybe I did something. I heard that corpses pass gas after dying, but that should have happened a while ago, right? There’s no way- “Do you wanna listen to music?” Your voice is music enough to me. I’m so glad you started talking again, oh thank God. You had me worried there. “Let’s see what you have in here-” He slowed down, that’s good. I wouldn’t want him to crash while looking through my mediocre CD’s. “I’m gonna be honest. I don’t know many of these bands. I see a lot of boy bands though. That’s kind of cute.” That’s embarrassing. “Here’s something I can work with. Katy Perry.” What? “I hope you don’t mind that I skip straight to Firework.” I never saw that coming. But hey, I can respect that. “Now we’re talking. Anyway…venting. That’s what I came to do, right? There’s a lot, so I hope that you’re ok with that.” You came to the right corpse. I’m all ears, baby. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I mean, what else can you do nowadays? And I don’t know, I guess I’m just at my limit. I don’t see the purpose to going about each day like this. I almost miss having people around, even though most of them were awful. “Every day I can do anything that I want. And it’s boring. I would prefer confrontation at this point, y’know? Anything to liberate me from the freedom of being able to do whatever I want.” At least you can still move. I’m just kind of stuck here. But whatever, don’t mind me. “I don’t even remember what I used to be like. I think I used to be a decent person. But that’s the thing, I think. I don’t even know what I was like. There’s no one here to validate whether I was good or not.” I think you’re good. Good lookin’. “I used to care about people. I remember…I remember when the first person I cared about died because of what happened, I promised I would remember them and live in honor of them. That didn’t happen. After a few years I started to care about them less. A few more, and I could barely recall why they were worth remembering. A few more…and well, now I don’t even remember her name or her face.” Am I competing with another dead girl? “My point is: why do we bother doing anything? We all die in the end. We’ll never be remembered, right? It’s like building a sandcastle when you know it’s going to be washed away in just a moment, and in the end, you’ll be the only one who remembers making it. “I don’t remember my friends, or my lover, or my parents. Save for the fact that I remember I had to have had them, I don’t actually remember them. Do you get what I’m saying?” No. Not really. Hell, I don’t even know how I made it as far as I did. Sheer luck, I think. “Maybe not. Maybe I’m just rambling. But it’s funny…I can’t find any reason to keep on living, but I’m also so scared to die.” It’s really not so bad. “I’m scared, because I know that that really will be the end of me, and the end of everything I’ve ever known. If I’m the last human alive, that’s the end of humanity. I feel like I have a duty to keep on living, but it’s not really fair.” Oh shit. I didn’t realize that he edged back up. He’s at 134 now. Don’t do anything stupid. I’m enjoying our talk. It’s a little one-sided, but that’s ok. “But it is what it is, I guess. If there’s an afterlife, maybe I’ll see you there. And if not, then it’ll be ok ‘cause I won’t remember ever being scared or lonely.” Don’t stop talking to me please. “Talk about a weird romance story, but I don’t know. I feel like we would have clicked if I had found you a bit sooner. I think we would have really gotten along.” He’s looking at me again. I want to keep this moment in my memories forever. “Is it alright if I call you Clara? You just look like a Clara.” I like it. I wouldn’t mind hearing you call me that for the rest of eternity. I don’t know your name, but I wish I did. I’m sure it sounds amazing. “Thanks for listening to me, Clara.” He yanked the wheel. Damn it.

[sirspamalot]

When the aesthetic is killing it.

My sister let me paint on her ❤ Inspired by hopeless fountain kingdom by Halsey.

❤/Elle

[sirspamalot]

Something nostalgic about the fuzz over older pictures.

[sirspamalot]

The Fireman looked around, wearing his rubber fireman’s jacket like a cape and clutching himself inside of it. Finally he found what he was hunting for–the moon, an ice-colored button pinned to the black cape of the sky.

Joe Hill The Fireman

[sirspamalot]

It's out there.

I love that every heart has a different tune, and that right now there's a song waiting to be heard by you.

[sirspamalot]

Amazing up-and-coming artist. Keep an eye on her.

Lana Del Rey

I’m starting this blog so I can post my art and some photos here. Feel free to reblog and share as long as I am given credit. I’ll be posting more soon!

❤/Elle

[sirspamalot]

Things get better.

I wish I could brush away your tears With gentle motions Like when I tuck your hair behind your ear Or hold your hand in mine But I am terrified That I will cut myself On your tears When you cry, rosebuds emerge behind those beautiful brown eyes They bloom Bringing with them a hopeless yet beautiful feeling I am trapped in the blossoming of yourself And then the vines come out They run down your chin And fall with pensive grace to your chest Where they flow along the curves of your body And the roots dig into you And soon you are trapped in your own melancholy bouquet And I try to free you from yourself But then the thorns emerge They stab you And you cry harder Losing yourself to the terrible comfort only tears can offer How can I wipe away your tears when I only hurt you more And the organic incisors cut you deeper And they nip at me when I try to move them But I have become brave enough to pull them away from you So they don’t mar your beautiful skin I am no longer afraid of being hurt Not if it means I can help you I pull the vines from you and the thorns bite me They tear my palms and rip my arms But I can do this for you So don’t cry anymore please Because it hurts me too.