It's Odd...

It’s odd.
I hate these chains that at other times feel like smooth honey crawling over my skin.
I hate these voices that at other times make me love the state I’m in and the person I am.
I hate the taste of life in my mouth that at other times makes me ecstatic and filled with rapture and harmony.
I hate these feelings that at other times are the secret ingredients to my pure joy and give me the feeling of wings on my back.
I hate these three empty words I speak that at other times are so full of meaning and passion.
I hate the hopes of my mind that at other times are just tiny components of a series of pleasurable and memorable moments.
I hate the person inside of me. And I hate most people around me.
Take me away to where the essence of life has been created and is being carried on today.
Take me back to a time with more work and more love and more discipline and more balance.
Carry me on the high horse of Heaven to a place where I can find myself in.
The meaning of true happiness will never again be my companion, for I have become a person with other principles and morals that were not identified till now. I expect too much.

An Epiphany... sort of...

I think I should not be dealing with people. it's hurtful to them. and hurtful to me to see how i hurt them again and again. i have lost the ability to appreciate others. i have lost the ability to save others. i have lost the ability to adapt to others. i have lost the ability to thank others. i have lost the ability to give in to others. it is my own fault. i can sit awake nights convincing myself that certain people in my life have made me that way, but it's just not true. i have at some point decided subconsciously that that's the way i'm going to be. i cannot remember when or how, but it happened. and it's killing me now. watch me emotionally isolate myself further and further away from others, because i can't jump over the wall i have built. the invisible wall that has firstly made me unable to express how i feel or how i should feel, and secondly has turned me into a person as cold and selfish as Cain was to Abel. i do not believe in any good will that could come from inside me. all i seek is unlimited freedom and obedience. and i hope by God that i won't be granted any of that until i change my ways. Amen.

Telepathy

The fire spreads in the infinite room we possess. We sit there. Staring at each other. I can feel your fingertips on mine. But I can’t feel the spirit. The distance has grown. It’s getting hotter. The sweat drips down our bodies. But we don’t move. We just sit there. Souls start walking through the room. They look like shadows. Orange shadows. Blue shadows. I want our spirits to connect again. But we both have this hollow look in our eyes. Hello. Can you feel me? Try again. But I have to admit, I’m not trying any harder. Whatever it was, it’s gone. Things gone, and things still here. It doesn’t make any difference now. We both get up at once. We both walk away at once. Talking about telepathy that I thought was long gone. It comes back the moment we decide to part.

We All Become One...

The low-lives. The fiends.
They are here, just like they were many years ago.
Penetrating my brain.
Making me think I could decide who deserves what.
Making me believe that I have the strength to overcome it all.
Without regrets.
I am superior.
I am up there.
You are a misfortune.
A genetic mistake of centuries to come.
I can make you pay for this unbearable sight.
I can make you stop your utterly weak and empty self.
I have what it takes.
But I don’t use it.
Because I am kind.
And now I ask myself: what on earth, heaven and hell ever gave me the right to think that way?
I am yourself, before you are myself, and after we all become one.

Dive...

When I put on my headphones while walking into university, I distance myself from what I see and what I would hear.
It’s about diving into what you want reality to be.
It’s about shaping what you see and what you perceive according to the music that’s playing right into your ear.
It’s about shaping your own thoughts according to your so-called background music, and creating your own mood.
But sometimes it’s about fleeing from you own thoughts and choosing to listen to somebody else’s instead. Even if this someone is a complete stranger to you, but his words make more sense than those of the people you know and deal with.
Long live the music.
It replaces myself.
Dive.

The Failed Philosopher and the Clock

Click.
Click.
Tic toc.
Tic toc.
Tic click toc.
Tic click toc.Tic click toc.
Tic click toc.
Tic toc.
Tic toc.
Tic sigh toc.
Tic breathe toc.
Dong. Close your eyes.
Dong.
Dong. Prepare mentally.
Dong.
Dong. For the sake of philosophy.
Dong.
Dong. Open your eyes.
Dong. Hand on trigger.
Dong. Lead to head.
Dong. Sigh.
Dong. Pull the trigger.
Dong.

"Oscar"

She smoked her cigarette in silence, and couldn’t help but smile inside. “You’re going to miss your train, Madame.” The chauffeur’s eyes were blue, and that’s probably why she started shivering every time he looked at her. “So be it! There’s nothing more soothing and valuable than having the time to finish your cigarette in silence, with no burdens on your shoulders. So what if I miss the train? There’ll always be another one. Don’t you think, Oscar?” “Certainly, Madame.”
Oscar. What a weird name for a French man. A French man that had charming, magical eyes. She turned around to take in her surroundings one more time. Breathe in, breath out. That was the sense of life! She finally found her purpose.
But the next train never came. And she just sat there. Reluctantly accepting that she had gone through great loss that she could not regain. The matters of the heart were never easy to grasp. But there was Oscar, the man she had spent the night of her life with in Venice. The man with the most penetrating eyes she had ever seen. “Oscar, do you believe in your own fate?” “What do you mean, Madame?” “Oscar, stop calling me ‘Madame’. I’m Elizabeth, as it were last night.” “Then, Elizabeth, I would highly appreciate you calling me by my real name.” She paused, waiting for his explanation. “My name is Luchino, as it were since I was born.” “How come I wouldn’t know something like that?” “You never asked, Madame. You assumed.”
Her surroundings blurred, the lit cigarette slipped from her hand onto the floor and was immediately extinguished by the falling rain. Another loss, another cigarette going to waste, another Oscar that she enjoyed. She didn’t know until that moment that her search for her real man Oscar was over, since she wasted the years of her, oh so precious life, looking for Oscar and not the man.