Mogwai - Come On, Die Young

"If you could come alive for a second that you will soon be in. If you could, yes, hear the grass grow and, yes, the cricket’s heartbeat. If you could fully comprehend all life, all alive then you would be dancing on a sublime full stop." D. Howie

"And if thy right hand offend thee, cut if off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell." Matthew 5:30

I have gnawed my own hand off. I sit in the avarice of my bedroom, and by the bed lies my left hand. The pressure between normal and pain has now equalised, it would be a lie to say I am not in pain, the pain is unquenchable, but I no longer notice it. The air has married time and they have dissolved into a blend of space, which wobbles uncertainly if anything moves through it. When I throw my hand from the desk it neither cuts nor glances but whirrs through the shallow air. I start by making a small incision just back at the junction between wrist and hand, then I bite into my radial and ulna artery, and continue to bite. Until I lose all thoughts...

They will later put newspapers over the lithe hand, lying, still now, in wait for an icebox and an ambulance.