The night was terrifying and silent. The void let the other emotions burst freely on the surface. It was the first time in months that a raindrop touched the earth without any hesitation. It fell abruptly from the eye and the second one followed. I was feeling the humidity in the air days now, but the heart of stone did not believe in giving in. The mind of the sinner refused to drown and fought hard to unravel the tangled thoughts. The meteorologists and my heart had predicted a thunderstorm. After the first raindrops, the others followed easily. It was hard to sham the pain as every thunder hit the bones of the thorax. The filmstrip seemed infinite. Myself and the tawny woman, both rubbed our forehead and covered our eyes. I could feel the skin under my nails hurting but the rain had to be stopped. I had created an ocean in which my sadness could reflect itself as if it had taken a human form; fine beauty, long curly hair, sparkling eyes. I wondered what is the source of that sparkle; radiating happiness, disturbing melancholy or painful regret?
You wonder no more about my thoughts and needs. You don’t know how much I need you by my side. For a minute I let myself believe that you didn’t exist but your aura still haunts me. I never feared love or myself more than I do now. The sky is grayish and tearful. Its’ resemblance to my mood is extraordinary. You continue to grow inside me like a blossom of anemone. There is no natural disaster that can overwhelm you, tear you apart and eventually lead to your death. There are moments I wish for your leaves to wither. But all I get is the chance to make this abnormal wish and then realize my nonsense on wishing something this cruel.
I am staring at a reddish glass of wine wondering whether my blood has the same color while burning because of you. I would pluck myself with a needle on my thumb to prove my thoughts right but that would be as nonsensical as my wish. I don’t need any proof to know that you still own my heart. There is a reason why you are still torturing me but I suppose I don’t want to know it. This desire is fatal for my soul. There is one thing I know for sure. I don’t regret carrying you in my heart. Not for a single minute. Despite my depressing thoughts, you can live there eternally, I won’t mind.
Have you ever felt the need to expose yourselves by revealing your real feelings to someone even if you two had drifted away? What did you do or what would you do in that case?
You asked me where have I gone. I answered ”here”. But my voice was silent. I was mute, incapable to scream loudly where I am. But I’m here. You don’t know this because you’re blind. You cannot see me through your majestic shades and I fear there is nothing to be done anymore. The volume of my voice cannot increase anymore. My heart beats are too loud. But nobody can hear them. Neither you. Your faces are masked. You wear a mask of ego. The neighbour wears a mask of money. I wear a mask of pain. My friend wears a mask of nothingness. So that’s it. We are all wearing masks, covering our inner selves, imploring for someone to break them without giving our permission. Don’t you think that’s too much to ask for from another human being? Who is he to shave away my pain? Who am I to fight his ego?
We do not bother ourselves. We try nothing and we accomplish nothing. We starve ourselves and then we’re fed so we don’t die. Isn’t it ironic? We starve ourselves from truth and we’re fed with big fat lies. In the morning we complain about our situation and at night we hope for the best tomorrows. But we do nothing. We breath in polluted air and exhale some more garbage to the world. We become an intoxication for our own kind. We are drugged by other human beings; knowing that they can either be our paradise or our inferno. I suppose the next rhetoric question I should be asking is whether that’s a good or a bad thing, but I am not. I am sure you are already asking yourself that or something similar. Aren’t you?
If you are not, maybe you should worry. Or you must definitely worry.
My soul is made of glass. The outline is thick and forms a perfect circle. It resembles to a ball of fire. Sometimes steel. Mostly though it’s glass. It can break easily but the fire still exists, containing it, keeping it intact. My mask is made of pain. Some may say it resembles to my soul. Others claim there is no pain inside me, just a failure that I’m trying hard to bring upon myself. I don’t know which theory applies in my case but I wish none are true.
My heart’s state is variable. There is mostly pain; the kind of pain that consumes me, burns my insides and somehow feeds me hope. My soul, I’ve seen, is more than glass and fire, or steel. My soul is blue, green and red. My soul is a mixture of clouds and oceans, soaked summer grass and extracts from extraterrestrial lands. My soul is made of what I am fed and I dare saying, my food is love and hate.
I fear the world will rip me apart. Two pieces of flesh. Or millions of pieces. That’s what I fear I will become. I fear the depth of the oceans will fill my body with unbearable water. I fear the dark waters. I fear the alcohol burning my veins. I fear it will carve your name on my body. My skin’s vulnerability makes my cells tremble at the sight of your name. I fear you will open my soul up and dig deeply, put yourself in there, cover your body with mud, brownish mud, as your eyes. Then you will grow, bigger bigger, your spirit will conquer mine. Haunt me.
Your mocking smile scares me. It makes you feel good burying your darkest edges in me. I fear I cannot handle you. Then I smile mockingly. Weirdly. What am I saying? This adoration I have for you, this thing that runs through my veins, this love, submerges myself to you without even bothering.
Certainly there is more to that than I let go. I am still locked inside me. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be able to open up completely to someone. Nonsensical words at midnight. That’s what I know. That’s what I’m writing. Nonsensical words.
The drunk man asked me this and I stood as still as a tree wondering…”Do you love him?”
I do not. Perhaps what I am saying seems a little, or a lot, nonsensical but you asked for my sincere answer and you should know that a sincere answer is what I am giving to you. I do not love him. I find it easy to admit or agree to such a thing and the reason why is simpler than you could ever percept. Whatever this feeling that cursed me is, it goes deeper than love. Since humans haven’t found a word for that yet or we may never find, I won’t let myself indulged into its’ charm. For love I have felt and it was not like this. It was indeed powerful, every emotion was triggered by it, but now, now it’s more than that. Now, the infinity of my feelings transfixes my body and has turned my feelings into a hunting warren. A warren of desire, seduction, empathy, vivacious feelings, feelings that if you ask me; I could even live for as eternity lies at dawn.
Maybe I should let you know, hoping you would understand my questioning this ”love” you want to name, that I have become a feathery person, sometimes even feeble. I am asking you please not to judge me or try to convince me that I should reconsider my statements, all because I will not. I am not gloomy. Do not ever understand that. I am as flippant as the hays of the sun on the sunup. You should see my expression now. A sought just escaped my lips, such a sweet and perky sought! It’s tingling my heart; this image of a demi-verge person who craves for me as I crave for him every night. This rapture or cannibalistic need of flesh, which many of us may not understand, it’s provoking me a deep sensation of amour. I do not say love dear stranger. Mark that. I am biting my lower lip at the very moment and the hotness has made my skin sweat. My humid lips have a salty taste of sweat. The hot breeze, the closed window, the feeble night, they all remind me of him. They all make me crave him even more, even sweeter. How can I make it understandable to you dear stranger?
In a parallel reality, where he exists only for me, or we might say that he is here for me, he touches my lower lip, undressing it from its’ salty taste with his own big softy lips. I fear writing to you the rest of the details…
On another long parallel line, runs my heart competing to all the above or helping them get to infinity. I do not know what it actually does but I feel it running. It has become a beast, a warrior among Cyclops. I shall not lie, I do feel deep feelings for him. As I said at the beginning, it is all about some other inexplicable feeling that has not been named yet because there is no greater than that. Writing the last sentence, perhaps I stupefy my own self for writing about ‘love’ as the greatest of all, but you should know, I am not. All I want you to do, is understand the difference.
After so many words, I’m letting you know, that at this very moment I feel a gap in my heart. It is like the earth, the soil, has broken up into two pieces letting an abyss of darkness in the middle. Do not ask me why I am feeling this way. I shall not answer.
It is said that writers are very good with words. They can easily find synonyms and touching words to say in every case. Have you ever wondered how easy can they find words for their own matters? Well, humans will always be humans. Even if they are writers, philosophers, astronauts, lawyers or bakers, the difficulty to ask for forgiveness, say “I love you”, give another chance, is the same.
Many are those who can handle words pretty well and play with them to state a quote or give an advice but few are those who can actually listen, be listened and still say what it is needed to say. I’m not one of the few. I wish I was. I couldn’t stand up for myself when I should have but most importantly I couldn’t keep my mouth closed when I had to. The ” word game” is a powerful one.
Saying to a person what you really feel and bringing to the surface every emotion and feeling you hide deep down it’s not an easy thing. Sometimes it’s admirable, but how much can you admire a person who by saying all those things may ruin himself? It’s not always the case, after out ”apocalypse” that we’ll be told the same things back even if that’s what we expect. Sometimes the truth is harsh and many are those who can’t stand it.
Yesterday night, I talked to a person, pretty close to me and we had a quite tensioned discussion I tried to convince him that making love to someone with all the flames, tension and explosive feelings actually exists. On the contrary he tried to convince me that is wrong to believe in such things. I asked why but I wish I hadn’t. The answer not only disturbed and hurt me but also disappointed me. He started by saying that making love to someone, not just having sex, is something he denies to believe in as it can kill you if you lose that person afterwards. In two words, he can’t give everything for somebody because simply he doesn’t want to. It is something he’s afraid of living. He prefers living a life denying its’ existence. The truth is I couldn’t forget about it and I can’t agree with it too. I may be a dreamer and some day something like that may ruin my life but still, I prefer living on the edge than be afraid of love my whole life. If I become careless and stop loving how am I going to live? How my life would be? What would I win?
If I have to call it somehow, I’d call it humanity. If I had to feel it somehow, I’d feel it as pain. If I had to give it away, I wouldn’t. That’s what I can now assume after such an exhausting evening. I was only sitting on a chair, in the open air but I got so tired, I’ve never been. My body was fine. My mind though was a mess. After a long chat, looking into a person’s eyes and “reading” his story, I realised…I don’t know what I realised. The conclusion is unknown. I only wanted at the end of this day, to meet the person I care about, hug him and feel safety just for a few moments. Because I know, the days to come, are tougher. It didn’t happened cause he couldn’t. I’m not mad, just weak. He didn’t know how I felt so I can reason with that. However I needed him. I still do. I finally can say, I was right. Everyone who tried to convince me I can’t love again was wrong. Everyone who tried to pull me out of this road, doesn’t know me at all.
If I had to name my fear now, it would be the fear of someone’s feelings. Love is hate. Pain is destruction. Both pain and love burst into tears. They drawn us all and full fill the planet with a bitter-sweet kind of water nothing can survive. I’d made them gods. The god of love and the god of pain. They’d have been married. They’d have two children. Hope and Fear. They’d complete each other. In my mind, that’s how our souls are separated, into parts. Today, I felt all of them. I only needed someone by my side to overcome them…That’s not how it was supposed this day to end.
Fear is an emotion we all have even if we don’t want to. Fear of death, of accidents, of life, of happiness, of love…it’s a weakness all human beings have. When you fear you are a step back. It’s not easy to fight it but it is necessary When I feel the whole universe is falling apart fear gets bigger and bigger. It increases the blood pressure to the limits. Not only fear; but every emotion possible. They say it is better if you show it and get it out of your system. I’ve always been of the opposite opinion. If you show people your fears they’ll take advantage of them instantly. Holding the universe together silently is the best option. Walk away from all the drama. Be above everyone. You know; silence is the best weapon because it hides more than you can possibly imagine. Last Advice: Don’t be afraid to look stupid. It’s part of your life – movie too.