Siavonga, Zambia

An alarm rings…
A snooze button hit…
Several times, until it dawns on me that I still exist and that there are still more days to live…
Mince. Je suis encore là. J’aimerais bien disparaître, Seigneur…

I don’t have suicidal thoughts…
Nor do I want to die.
For in dying, there’s an au-delà, another realm, the life to come…
And in this life to come there are people that I wish not to see…

Ammenes-moi un contrat, Seigneur…
Une petite papier où je peux attester que je ne veux plus exister…

I wonder whether there have been people who managed to persuade the universe or the creator or whatever you want to call him/her/it to cease to exist…
If people managed to vanish…
I would imagine that it might be possible and the fact that we have no trace is a sign of how efficient this process is…
Once the paperwork is signed, such no-person is instantly removed not only from this earth, but of the memories of those they met.
Maybe that’s why somedays we wake up and feel suddenly incompelete…
It could have been a loved one who vanished and our bodies are left to grapple with the unspoken loss..

Mais en tout cas, Je vais le signer.
Peut-être toute cette histoire, c’est une façon de moi pour attirer l’attention de celui qui a créé l’univers…
Un moyen de voler un peu de sa miséricorde…
But no, I have really had this time.
I am all set on disappearing…
I just don’t know how.