ghosts & admissons

Going to visit Auschwitz is kind of like kissing your sister; totally awesome!

Well that’s not true, I can’t say I felt anything. Nothing but a hollow emptiness as I stared upon row upon row upon row upon row upon row upon row of stark chimneys striped bare of the barracks once surrounding them. It went on forever, I would gaze down the row, 10 barracks down, that’s the distance to the bar across the street. Double that and it’s the distance to the Brass Rail around the corner, beyond that is the length of every shameful walk home filled with regret over the past semester and further still is the duration at which I have hauled this sense of self doubt for years. It didn’t end. Measurement is funny, you’re aware of it but only in the strangest of ways. I could squeeze out two maybe three songs on the way to the gas chamber, if nothings in my way I can do two artistic renditions of “our hell” complete with meandering and sad piano solo’s while watching the wonders of perspective curl my eyes from temple to temple across a see of these brick pyres of despair.

My shoes are wet, I am so selfish.

posted by El Chupacabra @ 3:25 PM