Kern Carter's Blog, page 91
October 13, 2021
The Abyss
When it is all just too much, sometimes giving up seems reasonable.
Because the “Squid Game” series is brilliant
Netflix production also deserves on a creative and emotional level, from games for children to its “vision” of reality
October 12, 2021
Fractured
Poetry and Proseprose about the friendships we build and destroy
A piece of me feels broken. I wish anger wasn’t my mind’s first recourse. Fueling the seeds of hate, luring in monsters adorned with emerald visions. My eyes water as I recount the times we had forgotten about the dusk and settled for downtown drunken coffees at dawn. Talk about attached at the hip — we ruled our world.
A piece of me feels broken. I wonder day in, day out, as i breathe in, breathe out. It feels like a lie. Was it all a lie? Lottery win of finding soulmates at age 9, 11, 13. Ending up in the same school. Neighbours, even. Introducing you to each other at 14,15,16. Becoming my whole world at 18, 19, 20. A true crew. Not like the others. Special—crowned.
A piece of me feels broken. When things attach too hard sometimes they break. And in the end broken promises and lies took honesty’s place. Once, we thought true, and spoke it as well. Replaced it with whispers, hushed quiet and stillness in the air. Threads unravelled with time and age and despair. Years of unspoken resentment peered their heads and cradled their limbs from our brains. We began to pretend, again and again.
A piece of me feels broken. Down the long road to separation. Paths become unpaved. A true test of time’s loyal embrace. Most will go, few will stay. The few I imagined to stay ran away. Smiling at 23, divulging secrets at 24. Awkward laughter at 25. Lies like growing tumors at 26. Forgetting to call after father dies at 27. Disappearing as quiet as a whisper at 28. Well wishes and departures like before a flight. Left in my past like a frightful sight.
A piece of me feels broken. Stones hit me until I fall, and with bitterness I cast them right back at their walls. Sinless I am not. The pendulum swung and the axe broke down the root that used to mean forever. Now forever is a mathematical endeavor. A moment living in between creation and discomfort. A decade later, it all feels like a lie. Was it all a lie? A waste of time? I wish fear wasn’t the first recourse in their mind. Fueling the seed of cowardice that lures monsters adorned with the greenest eyes. But in the time we had left, we felt hopelessly divine. And now for all the time left in the world… it’s only me, myself and I.
Fractured was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
Feeling the Significance of Our Traumas, Big And Small.
It’s not always the big emotional and physical traumas that keep us up at night, sometimes it’s the seemingly smaller ones that dig a hole…
