Vanity.

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     A fearful person. That is the perfect word to characterize him. The man wearing the viridian mask was always silent while his thoughts could torment any demon in hell. He thought that words have no meaning when you can conquer the world with your actions. Even if deep down in my soul I believed in his theories, I think of him as truly mistaken.
The sky is cloudy and the black widow surprises me with her serendipity and negligence of the revengeful heavens. The city lights are blurry, reflecting as murderous shadows on the glassy windows. The autumn leaves seem all blackish now, same pattern and nuance. The pine trees are moody because their children are gone and the dirty water of the rain has sickened them. Somehow, those pines trees can resemble to the viridian man. His seedy provision has the same effect on my disposition. Even if it is a fact well known, I cannot accept it. I wish his branches could expand more on my thoughtful mind and answer to my pitiful questions. I am being conquered and pestered by every possible word that can come out of his mouth.
The walls around me are whitish and the furniture seems nothing like luxury. The mattress has no sheets on it and the floor is cold. The window is half opened. I can see the wildness of the human souls pondering on the streets; some indecisive, others lighthearted.
The viridian man was still wearing his impersonal mask. His lips won’t curve into a smile and his eyes won’t show any annoyance. Some may say that hiding what’s torturing you is the only armor that can protect you from the untamed world. I might agree but in the viridian man’s case I fear he excesses the use of this lethal drug.

Autumn Desire.

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     The burning hell amused me. There was no ocean flooding those eyes but the insensitiveness of a broken man. He possessed the keys of many hearts but he preferred locking his. Even his smile was hidden. His lips curved politely when he laughed at a joke but I didn’t feel that laughter coming out as joy. It seemed more like a depressive loneliness. Each word that came out of his mouth insinuated something different from the true definition of it. His body was rocking by the music he listened and I could do nothing else but keep staring at him. Whether his hell accepted me or not, I insisted on staying despite the emotional disturbance that his demons were causing me.

     The crowd stopped my exasperating thoughts. Even the trees were too noisy while letting their dry leaves fall on the ground. They had created a majestic view that could calm any bittered heart. For a minute I forced myself to stop and stare at them. They didn’t seem dead to me. Neither his soul was dead. It resembled to those dried leaves of autumn. They didn’t seem alive to every person but only to those who cared enough to indulge into the spiritual world which they were keeping guarded from the cyclones of life.
     Every day I knew more of this man even if his depths were unreachable. I was still floating on the surface of his thoughts but that was enough for now. I was waiting for him to take away his sharks and let me dive in a little bit deeper. I just wanted to be the goldfish that would interject into his unabated waters.