Roller Coaster

I feel it, it is on the horizon hiding from me, showing its head now and then with a soothing smile. It feels like a giant scorpion waiting for that right moment when I am not expecting it. That giant scorpion shows it telson, dripping with poison and tormenting me. It hides behind the horizon calling my attention. It knows the route that I drive. It knows the songs I like. It knows the right moment when in an instant it can strike. It knows what I am thinking and it waits for that gentle memory, it waits for that smile. The scorpion stings, perforating my brain. I feel my whole body under its mercy. On that moment I feel my hands full of my lieutenant's life, my clothes are covered in blood and guts, body parts litter my range of vision. The scorpion has stung my brain, injecting it with a flow of memories that I had been able to hide for a while. I feel like screaming but that venom has a powerful toxin that suppresses any emotion. I feel like staring at the horizon waiting for the scorpion to sting again. It feels like a drug. I feel the need for the memories. I need the shock. I need the adrenaline that the toxins leave in my body. I ask the scorpion to sting again. Death is inviting me to join the dead. I have left my life on the Iraqi landscape. I don't exist. I see my body laying on the scorpion's cuticle, feeling the sun on my face. I am alone waiting for that invitation to become reality. I will not die under my own hand, death will claim my life soon enough. On August 23, 2006 I will be one year old.