The process of venting

Voice fails to hide its tracks when there is an explosion.

Started on Thursday afternoon,
Laughter has suddenly become loud from the diaphragm, not from the throat.
The subject was not that hilarious,
But there was an urge to make it tremble through the door.
A random mumbling of complaint, has lost its original sanity. It’s the volume that gave it away.
You don’t understand that why there is the urgency, which associate with you working until you say goodnight to work.
You don’t understand that why we don’t deserve a balanced day.
You know that deep down, we are working for someone’s greed.
And most of the time, that someone is not us.

Stability is such a trap,
Many would tell you security means everything,
The bases of everything, said with their greasy faces, the material smile.
But the distinction between you and them are,
You are not afraid to die.
Thus the trap has nothing to offer you but a salve-like suffering.

On those moments of edges,
What visited you are the wishes to keep walking on an unknown road until you are not yourself anymore.
The curiosity that what will happen if you suddenly jump onto the road as if playing a prank on that uncle holding the scythe.
But the choices of ending suffering aren’t what we do.
You call that a deep dive and we are not to give up yet.

You saw an open grass field with no one around.
Upon landing the island, you feel secured by the wildness of one piece of green mirroring to the big blue one.
You yell like as if bloody murder.
You have heard your despair out in the open, you just need to disperse it and evaporate from your chest until you are exhausted.

We took the same way back.
We went back to our places.
We carry on until it automatically falls off.

~Carol Shi