Posts Tagged ‘people’

…And my unconscious share the night with the lonely cold moon…

All my fears were soaking deep through the rocks under my numb body…

I got no idea how my tears turned into sweet pillow of tranquil insanity…

I had no idea if I will open my eyes again …

Abruptly ,  I felt how the sunrise started to burn my fresh scars…

Probably that was one of the few moments that I could say I was so happy of feeling pain … Cause that was the only way to coax my blurry mind that I am still alive.

And I was  there sizzling, enjoying my  extra minutes of vitality …

” As near you get to the peak it gets harder doesn’t it? ”

I turned my face up wondering who said that.

And there in front of my blurry vision there was an old skinny person … Barefoot , skimpy dusty clothes … I could not manage to see his face clearly cause the sun was throwing its rays straight through him …

Somehow I pull off my body of the rocks…

I stared shocked for a while at that strange person that was on the same rocky path as me…

” Who are you? What are you doing here? ” – asked him with the hope that he will make me calm with some good  news that I am not so lost…

…. He did not answer me at all…

He turned his back and slowly start walking down my path… Straight from where I was coming from…

” Hey… Stop  … I need to know where I am ? Where and when would be the end of all that?” – was shouting desperately , hoping  he will  answer me…

Even without turning his face to me he just raised his arm , pointing  the mountain behind us:

“You need to  go over there. Everyone  wants to be there. … But very few knows what they want to find there ”

” You’ve been there?” – I asked him curiously .

” Actually  , everyone of us got the chance to be there  by some reason … Otherwise why we are trying so hard ? ” – by adding this the guy shade just melt in the burning horizon …

 

And I was  running….

Running too long  ….

Suddenly, all those wild beast noises were deaden by the sigh of my exhausted by  fear lungs…

All that jungle…. All that alive chaos hide itself behind the  horizon . The  horizon that was already kissing the sunset of my nightmare…

And the pain of my bleeding bare feet start wake up my blindfolded mind…

And  I was blind … Blind by  fear … Fear of failure … Fear of being not understand … Fear of what actually  crawl in my just human soul… Of being on my own ,  of  all that endless ocean of tears  that could  drawn my dreams….

I  kept running , running and  running away… from everything that scares my inner ME….

Somehow the forest of all those fears disappeared and  were changed into rocks of  testifying my will for happiness ….

The pain of my chosen path did not stop … Actually it became even bigger… Twisting my mental limits.. Testing my will for something more than horror end…Regretting that I could die by just like that…

I’m not sure why I kept pushing my way forward … That run  actually  just put me in a  cage . Cage, built by  nothing than personal  fears and nightmares which probably never ever will exist in my real live…

So all those  rocks under my feet were nothing than pain. Pain that  actually made me  feel… Feel  and realise what’s the real life for … No sugar coated  stories … No fakes … Just real pain that actually  managed to  reject  all those delusional fears from my scared mind…

So I was running  and my path  was taking me nowhere – at first thought nothing than a hard and torturous trip… But trip that actually   led me ahead … Above  all those things  ,staying in the deep  dark   bottom of my mind…

At some point… I hobbled badly … And  even before to be able to blink, my whole wet and shaking body was scraped on the cold stones of my trail…I remember how I stayed like that for hours … With empty eyes … Just tears , spilling my thoughts all over the  rocky  ground …. No heartbeat … Just the blood from my injures … Soaking the soil with my love…

I guess that was the end? If so … Why all that story should be written and shared ?

Why should we run cause fears ? Why  should we always prefer the actual real pain … than the nightmares of our  illusive  dread?

 

He does not like to talk… He prefers to write… So even the deaf one  could hear his story…

He does not like to think…He loves to feel and to feel love… So he could fly away from that cold so logical lie called society…

He does not like to listen… He tries to understand… So he could let each single word to soak deep into his soul…

He does not like just to exist… He wants to live…So someday in the end , he could say with smile on his sad face ” I guess that’s life”…

He does not mind to be used… Because his heart is already pretty much worn out…

He does not care if the rest of the world  lies him all the time… He already lied to himself million of times.

He realizes  that his happiness is just a dream… But that does not make him sad…His life is already just an illusion that strangely comes to reality…

He enjoys all those love songs no matter his heart  sounds more like the soft strings of solo guitar into the quiet dark summer night…

He has nothing than a backpack of memories, dreams and ideas…But that is not a problem… He already knows that all in this material greedy world is not forever…

He needs to be loved… But he learned his lesson… Life is about give not to get…

He has no family, no friends, no love half… He accepted that… Life is to be next to someone, not someone to be next to you…

He prefers to have  billions that hate him honestly… But it is okey… He already felt how it is to be loved by hypocritical one…

He is one of those freaks that appreciate even the cold wet pavement… Just because it is so real and honest…

And here he is… In that small dark room… Far away from all that vanity, greed and public comments… Sit in front of his dusty desk… Spreading his thoughts and feelings by the touch of his finger tips. Spreading his tears and smiles all around the keyboard. Excusing himself for those  rows  with the alcohol… Hiding the real reason that  makes his heart beat as a wild animal in a tiny cage…I guess he feels himself cursed to be alone and  misunderstood… I guess he is lucky to see his own way by the stars not by the other people thoughts.

And there are no rules that put his freedom into a cage… Just page after page scoring year after year of his life on this world…Just  row after row marking his existing. Just thought after thought making up his personality. Just a word after word that tracing his breath. Just a letter after letter, pointing each single heartbeat of his already dead heart…

And he believes that he could change someone else life. And he dares to show his heart to the rest of the world. And he hopes that those letters got a point for the people on this planet. And he fights for his thoughts. And he loses all that pleasure. And he wins the meaning of life…

He does not afraid that his heart is smiling at his loneliness … He does not feel the shame that a man could deeply cry by his soul…He does not feel wrong to love the wrong one… He does not feel the pain… He feels just the dream that he could  have some other life…

He closes eyes every night with the hope that the next day he will meet the new story for his book. He wakes up with the feel that  today will be the day of changing the world. He walks around the street with a smile on his otherwise calm face, sharing the joy of breathing now right here. He shares his tears only with his heart… Guess life is already too drown in sadness… He does not mind to trade a tear of his for a smile for someone else… He just loves to change and change the love around the world.

…And every time when he thinks that his idea is done, he just rips off the page of his notebook  and throws it away… Throws it away with the hope that someday, someone will  find it out in the mud of public noise and somehow will appreciate it… Will find out the pure thoughts in that  worn out sheet of paper… And he is not counting the pages… He does not even think how much he got left to the last cover… And he is ripping off pages, throw them away… And he is ripping off pieces of his heart and share them with the rest of the world…

For all those that will pick up the pieces of my notebook