If you are my God,
get me out of the game.
The dices are fixed.
I can’t reach the other pawns.
They are all having jobs, friends, wives, a baby.
Sometimes it drives me crazy.
Then I want to do your job,
take a life.
I used to go wandering through the old oakwood.
The trees were barren and old,
casting ghastly shadows on the ground.
Once, was told, several people hang themselves here.
I talk to their spirits.
‘Be done with it, lad, it’s much pleasanter on this side of existence.’
‘Be brave, do it, do it tonight.’
‘You bring a noose now do you?’
I leave the ghosts. Undecided.
I remember this when I lay in the clinic.
Depressed in isolation. Iron determination to make this my endgame.
I collected all the knowledge necessary.
But a strange force keeps me pushing forwards.
If I only can go on weekend this time.
Two days away of that gruesome place,
where people treat you as furniture.
‘Lad, aren’t you coming, we have plenty of ale here,’
a ghost with a large beard said next to me.