If I knew, if only I had some knowledge of his unspoken thoughts… But perhaps I don’t want to know. That seems to be the naked truth. My sooth was cleared of clothing or decorations. I do have a foolish interpretation of his silence in my mind which haunts me like a black widowed crow. Have I mentioned that I have a special adoration for crows?
I assume you will find my declaration irritatingly nonsensical. Can I be excused for loving the soothing that strangulates my lungs? Certain things cannot be excused so perhaps I am not forgiven. I have betrayed my universe and its’ sweet, agonising revenge is more than accepted. It took away my oxygen and tragically I do not mind. I can live without it.
That certain touch of tenderness that filled my dreams is gone. The exasperation of waiting to see him is gone too. Everything has drifted away. Do you find me depressing? Because I already do find me so.
I should let you know that I am not. There is a new kind of happiness running through my veins. I have made piece with my own desperation. I have made piece with myself and that is how everything flows willingly into another direction. I opened my eyes and the darkness was gone. I could see the stars telling me everything is going to be just fine.
All I had to do is admit to myself the harsh truth; that everything was over and I had to move on. –
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.
”There is nothing worse than lying to yourself. Once your heart realises it, the chains will seem unbreakable. The key to freedom is admitting the truth to your soul and then; just let go. ”
Living in a big city in the 21st century and being surrounded by millions of people choices are difficult. Life is taugh. There are moments in life when we find ourselves trapped into our own choices and decisions. Telling the truth or exploring other options of coping with problems and difficulties is something we deal with everyday.
But which of the two genders is more truthful and which more courageous to do other things in order to come clean? Is it men or women that determine what is going to happen next? Well, this question is senseless because it’s not about what we are but how we are. Man or woman, guy or girl, doesn’t matter. What matters is morals, character and the values we have grown up with. Every one of us, has its’ personal beliefs, right or wrong, true or false, they change only by the incidents every individual passes through. Everyday is a new day, another page in the book of life, by which the whole future is determined and destined. Well, destined, I don’t know if it’s the right word, because every moment can be changed by the choices we make, by the lies we say, by the mistakes we make, by the difficulties we get through…
Speaking again about the truth, makes me realize how important it is for humans. It is actually vital; like water. We need it in order to live; most importantly, live in peace. The earth still continues to exist, the sun to shine, the stars to glow at night only because there is that big truth of their existence. If humans, didn’t know about the universe existence there would be no truth about our existence. There would not be no truth about the earth. It’s hard to explain, or think of but it seems logical to say that what keeps the world spinning is that great truth.
So, could we say that life is like a ”truth or dare” game? This question is full of meaningfull words; life; thruth; dare; game; So, in conclusion, is life a game?
Definitely not! (Although it may seem so).