Sometimes we live as dead, in others lost between the hands of fate.
Distant? Here or somewhere ;
The hands are freezing but the eyes are not, which from which is a delight : living as dead or buried alive?
Fair is what they say about life;
Unfair in their times of sorrow;
Poor is the guy with no assets;
A menace to their interests;
Insane is the man with ambitions;
Wise is a man with no goals.
I have talked to the Wind much more than I did with the stars; I have called the moon yet it didn't reply;
I drained my soul desperately crying for help. Still, there was no one to answer; Within that horrible sound-proof room I called "Life" I simply have found myself eagerly trying to satisfy my evil demands, trying to exist.
« But what freak does have the right to exist? »
None.
Since the dawn of time, Abel and Cain have settled the matter of good and evil; They didn't only manage to create more than a critical start for humanity but a perfect one that describes how tragic our ending is. It started with bloodshed; How could it end with peace? Two brothers killing one another? Certainly, there will be hope in us!
With you it started innocently as talking to yourself, You've convinced yourself that it shouldn't go out of hand; You've believed yourself, believed that this was your way to exist, Did it tell you so? Did it tell you that everyone talks to themselves only not loud enough, That Due to some circumstances they interpret those voices as if they were their faces of reality?
People are always afraid of their own, the unknown; Instead of facing their demons, they start pointing fingers at others; As if two individuals started exchanging insults and fighting over who was the saint of them knowing they both stink.
Have you ever heard a random voice telling you to wake up, Or did you ever ask yourself what if you weren't only dreaming? Maybe all of what you were seeing wasn't a regular dream but a different reality shape built up by your mind.
We do express ourselves through dreams, also in beyond our physical touch visions; that we feel in the depth of our generating cells.
« Can we feel them, are they real, we can hear them clearly or are they faint?»
Yet, THEY do exist.
However, everything started near my hawthorn tree;
-Wake up, please wake up!
-Why should I?
-Just, so I can rest.
I woke up in a hurry, feeling asphyxiated, while my hands were shaking and my body was covered in sweat, I felt overwhelmed by this vision, thus I tried to go out of my bed to drink water but I couldn't, I froze in that state of dreaming or my soul was lost in a labyrinth; I started wondering about the meaning or what senses this vision had, But waking up without any notice in the middle of the night is the result of an active mind, I assumed; It happens to everyone, I claimed.
Then I went back to sleep.
The same voice came over to me as soon as I closed my eyes, It was for an instant. "Am I hallucinating?" I didn't know if I was going crazy or was it just a dream? yet hearing that same voice calling me again gave me comfort.
-Sinner, you should repent!
-Repent?
and then I added:
-Who are you?
I had a feeling that my hands were tied with my mouth being up-closed and Everything in circles was spinning. However, I kept hearing it sizzling; I am your most vicious enemy, your best friend, your rival, and your ally, It said :
-I am you.
Then I woke up again, but the voice didn't stop and went louder.
- I am your faded love, the dark side of the moon, the chapel from which you are prohibited, the temple you hide in... »
-Stop!
I screamed.
- You're being rude aren't you?
- I'm the one being rude
Then I added
- Besides, how can I hear you?
- Is this your first time?
It was not the first time; this was one of the uncountable times I heard things, only this time they seemed real, also clear; As if they broke free of all the chains they were tied with and started chasing over me. I couldn't possibly think straight, when I thought that I was going somewhere cold, a cold unusual corner in the edge of my mind and an empty one.
Some say you have to live with it, and others claim that you can hide it, but will you pretend to accept it? « No, Never! » Could you be a divided freak? That will kill hope in you although it killed life for me.
-You've got a name?
I asked,
-So you're interested in me?
-Not really, but I wanted a name to call you with.
-Nada, Call me Nada.
-You're kidding me?
-It means nothing in Spanish.
I was still in my bed looking at my ceiling thinking of it as someone else's floor, wondering if I will ever be able to get out of this grave.
I saw that roof as the limit of my ambitions, the podium in which there's one place for me with none for the others, only me there holding a trophy, celebrating the accomplishments I cherish the most by myself, alone.
Then out of the sudden an idea popped into my mind.
« Now that I have got a voice tickling my ears from the inside, echoing in my brain, and smothering me in my times of loneliness, violating my intimacy and holding me hostage of Its companionship; Will that mean that I will never be capable of being alone with my thoughts? »
Then I realized that something must be done with my day, I had to make it countable! Even if I didn't have any plans in mind, I had to exist somewhere.
I looked at my nightstand and found nothing, but an empty pocket of cigarettes, a lighter, my lamp, and two books.
« L'étranger by Albert Camus, Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. »
There was also « Chopin, étude op.10, N3 Tristesse » playing in the background.
The Ashtray was on the floor, with everything somewhere but not in its place, again.
I left my bed heading to the kitchen to look for some coffee; "Luckily I ran out of it."
- I now have a new plan; Buying Coffee!
I said in excitement.
I exited my apartment, walking step by step, descending the almost collapsing staircase, watching over the Black Damp spots on the walls saluting me in their way in the middle of a horrible symphony performed by rats; to arrive to the block's exit door safe and sound.
As I got to the street, I noticed a cluster of clouds gathering and finding their way to my direction, carrying the anger of god, Like the famous religious stories tell when it rains blood, or rocks for punishing the heathens; and like a miss-organised army in fear of death people started running in a hysterical way to cover their heads.
« Maybe they will get lucky this time.»
Either ways I'll be fine walking in the heart of this storm.
- What if it will rain acid?
I asked myself
-Then you will simply dissolve.
Nada whispered to me.
-Who allowed you to speak?
- Then silent I shall remain.
I started walking under the rain drops believing that they were washing my skin and clothes for a reason, «As they enter my body; they'll wash my soul in their way too, until I arrive cleansed to the store. » I said to myself.
Suddenly, I found Me at the store's façade, I pushed the doors forwards to hear the bells ringing, annoying sharp tintinnabulation that hurts your ear drums.
I could look, but I couldn't see; I could hear, but I couldn't listen; like someone who's under a spell he sees whatever he is wanted to see but not the truth, his truth; There is no control by himself but a crashing of two forces; One is Good and the other is Evil.
After entering the store I turned right to walk all across the long hall, thinking that I was watched by everyone, even though there was no one; Maybe it was my paranoia or my fear of the cameras the reason why I did have that alarming feeling.
« Every small movement is recorded »
I thought to myself, then added;
« I am watched even when there is no one. »
Underneath my ground the world was crowded, the ground was shaking, for it was the hour of Gog and Magog's arrival, their salvation day, and the day they get to see the sun, but what a shame; though it's their salvation day, it is as well a grey day.
There I was at the coffee aisle, and my miserable thoughts were keeping me bad company without having the intention to leave me, I had to be firm with myself, "Take the coffee to the register, pay your duties and go back home." I said to myself.
On my way to the registers, I saw a dubious cashier with one of them big pretty smiles, big rounded sleepy eyes, short black hair, and snow-like skin. She seemed like she cared about her fit, she also seemed like she knew how to keep her physical appearance simple and attractive. Her length was average, not too tall, and not too short either; she didn't wear so much makeup nor a little, but a charming way to get attention for her own provocative satisfaction. Towards her I walked, approaching her with slow - testing boundaries - steps, trying to avoid all eye contact with her, until I overheard her colleague calling her Farah.
-Farah we need your help, in register number 02 !
From first impressions perspective, she seemed gracious, and full of life; She had something clear for the sight, and dubious about her, Something that us the dead smell; It was life, and the hope of getting one of our own, was what attracted me to her, for people like me, we can't stare angels in the eyes or else we risk our own dissolution.
I arrived to her checkpoint and said :
-How much?
She checked with her scanner. It took her a while to finally say that my item was not registered in the market's server, or warehouse, or whatsoever they use in there; « but what the hell? I don't know why everything has to be so digital and complicated, she deals with customers their items all day long, twenty-four seven; she should have remembered ! »
Meanwhile I heard a not so-strange-voice saying :
-Don't say something dumb.
I turned quickly, and found no one.
It was loud again, but louder than ever, and smoother it has become; It's not distorted, nor any close to be faint. I said
-Why?
-You want to talk to her I assume?
-It's not like I have nothing else to do, so I won't.
-You suggest that staring at your walls while smoking cigarettes is drudgery, and talking to her is a waste of time?
-Not per se, but..."
then I added
-You have got some sense I see.
Then the cashier "Farah" interrupted us asking
- Could you wait for a moment ?
Then continued saying :
-It is taking me long, and It seems that I can't fix the problem; so could you meanwhile pay in one of the other registers?
As she was assembling her objects.
My lips shaked a little, there was a cold chill in my hands, I closed my eyes for finding the right words to answer her, my heart started beating fast, the air stoped and time became slower, I could barely breath, It was my anxiety that was troubling me; Therefore I held myself together, I summoned my courage and found the answer I was looking for, I mumbled a few words but she couldn't hear me; so I said these words as loud as I could get :
-The lines, they are too long!
But the truth was that my voice fainted and she left.
I stood there in my place then said « If there is no other option; what can I do? »
-When is the last time you've talked to a girl?
With a confident voice it asked me as if it was about to preach me about life and social interactions.
-Just now.
-If saying hi while being a total dull is talking, then you should seek some help.
-How funny of you.
I said in a sarcastic tone.
The line was moving slowly, short enough to not find time to create adventures, long enough to not wait. Meanwhile, I saw the girl passing by saying something. I didn't pay attention to what it was, but was it "You're sweet" or some cursing in a language that I don't get?
-Very sad.
It said in a disappointed tone.
-Anyway.
I answered it in a slacky tone.
As I was in that slow moving line, I imagined myself with her in an art museum flying amidst its corners, from one to another, like bees or souls in the isthmus; watching ghosts of some past turning back to life, grieving for existence, losing ourselves passionately in some paintings, and coming back holding one another crying; In heaven on the velvet clouds which will be our home, where we will be painting our roof with the dancing stars, and finish decorating it with the smile of Helios looking at us. Growing older fighting, than simply withering in the cold season of abandon, to have as a closure for my scenarios; her taking a small bottle of poison out of her left side near her heart, mix it with honey, then drink half of it and give me the rest so i can die in peace.
« What a cruel way to kill a lover. »
After that I knew that I had to accept the fact that some people are meant for great things but not simply for us; Like everything else, fate came in the way and simply in one action everything became nothing.
I thought that maybe there will be other events, endings; but a voice interrupted me saying
-Sir, can you give me that coffee?
And reached her hand for my bag of coffee.
-Here
And gave her the object.
I stayed stray in the new cashier's movements, she smiles when she does her job, so she must love it, or at least she masters it, therefore I forgot about the scenarios in my head of me and Farah.
I took my plastic bag and went on my way out of the store heading to my block.
As I got out of the store , I saw that the storm has gone on its way, and didn't simply take me with it; the sun shined like never before, perhaps it was a moment of clairvoyance. All I know is that life simply took back its course, and got back to track. I felt like I forgot about something beautiful I felt, « What was it ? » It wasn't like anything else, it was a language we feel but can't hear, probably the language of gods.