Hell

 Hell

An abstract concept for most

A Promise of pain for some

The daily life for many

I take the subway

get off my station

walk 100 meters to my building

climb up the stairs

open the door

get up the stairs, second floor

open the door

And hell awaits me

The final hallway to my apartment

Many times I have walked it

one way or the other

when I leave its no issue

when I stand at the entrance to get to what I call home

its Hell

Many a times have I stood there, wondering what time it is

not in the literal sense

I wear a watch and have my cell with me at all times

but what time in my life is it?

Is it back then when I was coming back from a weekend with her and this hallway meant the return to the daily life

Is it back from another day of work?

A day of studying?

A day of breaking up?

Am I alone, am I in company?

Do I like the company thats with me or does it just soothe my loneliness for the time being?

I wonder most of the times

and I never find the answer

I fear that, deep down, I wish I could turn back time to when I was genuinely happy

Before I had torn everything down

Before I had left

Before I took that ride back from her place and found myself alone and lonely in that corridor

Hell is having to face your failures every day while knowing there is nothing you can do about it

That train left almost 3 years ago and its not stopping at your station again, its headed straight, and you are waiting at the stop, hoping, with all your might, that it might somehow return and take you with it.

But it most likely wont

And you have to walk that corridor

every

single

damn

day

and be reminded of how you fucked up so badly that its still haunting you years after it happened, relationships after it happened, jobs after it happened, friendships after it happened...

Will moving absolve me from Hell?

Moving on, or moving to a new place

Movement is required, and yet I am stuck in this facet of my life

I can not really look forward, I have been blinded by my own ineptitude, my own selfishness, my own ego... my emotional side, too wild and untamed

I hate this corridor and yet, as a martyr in chains I walk it 

every 

single

damn

day

And am reminded that I am not what I could have been

The decision / Curtain call

Since the first moment I lay eyes on you, something stirred up inside me
I could not really explain what it was
your shy smile?
your radiant eyes?
your small frame?
The way you know what you want, or at least for that brief moment you did know...

It enthralled me...
It made me lose control

I had never experienced such a thing

I came out of a long relationship, and I was in need of something you could not provide

Why?

You were taken... In a weird way, but you were

But there is this burning sensation and magnetic attraction that I do not know how to deal with
You can not extinguish this passion I have the same way you burn out a cigarette when you throw it in a small puddle of water: it sizzles for a few seconds and then its light is extinguished...

I can not do that...

We shared a walk, we shared messages... It drew me in.

I am aware I started it and I was, once again, very aware what I was getting myself into....

Such a weird thing to say, would you not agree? "I would tap that..."
I did it for two reasons, as I told you: test the waters and try to get a reaction out of him

There was no reaction from his side, but you did react to it apparently

Did I raise the bar too high for my own good?

Maybe, maybe... That time it was my raw emotion and the alcohol and cigarettes talking more than my rational side

I casually talked to you that Wednesday, wanted to walk with you, get to know you a little better
You took, once again, the initiative and asked if you could swing over, I agreed, I just wanted something, I did not know what, I still do not, but I wanted it

You worked, I organized the mess that was my room, but we both still had scrambled minds... we should have made sure that our minds were tidy before we did what we did, but passion is not rational.

The moment passed, we showered together, shared laughs as we rinsed our bodies from what had happened. It was not bad, but it was not that great either, we both secretly knew it.

You spent the night, unexpectedly, even had a toothbrush with you, you swore it was not planed, just like all the evening we had spent together, but it was convenient, just like the evening, I guess.

We looked forward to the day proper, the day in which we had agreed to meet....

I prepared dinner, got some decent wine to lighten the night and our minds. We shared stories as we ate the meager dinner I had whipped up. I did not notice anything weird by the time, but I guess in hindsight some questions were weird.

I still remember how you looked at me as you rode me... that funny half smile half frown that you make... its funny and weird, but its... fitting, attractive.

The second night felt like two black holes colliding, each eager to devour the other, to make it part of itself.

You had left your bike out... that was a sign. Did I know what it meant?

Probably

Did I want to interpret it as such in the heat of the moment?

Definitely not

I can still smell the scent of sex and your taste in my lips from that night... It felt good.

I was not able to finish either night, maybe that bothered you, but since you had already made up your mind you did not consider it important to raise up...

You had told me you would not spend the night this time: last night you and me had barely gotten any sleep and we had to go to work on the next morning. It was the rational thing to do...

Should I have stopped you?

Maybe

You left, the bitter taste of an unanswered question lingered in my mouth:

Will I see you anytime soon?

You just half-assedly smiled and rode your bike home.

It was not a ten speed, would have made for a funny story since that is the title of a song of my favorite band.

As I saw you ride away into the night, tears started swelling up in my face...

"Keep it together... keep it together till you are home and nobody can see or hear you weep" I told myself as i struggled to open the door, climb up the stairs and open the door to my flat.

Once I was in the safety of my home, I broke down.

A stream of insecurity and loneliness covered my cheeks

Bitter tears of unfulfillment were slowly covering my bathroom floor... I went to the door once more, vented my anger with one punch that barely scrapped my knuckle.... I was not even to properly express my frustration...

I crawled into bed.

No youtube till passing out tonight, just the blissful silence of the cold winter night entering my room through the small crack of hope that was my window. The sound of the quiet night soother me to sleep and I, at sometime, fell asleep thinking that I just wanted the pain to go away.

Automaton for Friday, that is what was in store. I be damned if anyone at work is going to see me weep. I had to run away some times to catch air, to not drown in my own emotions, frustration, despair, loneliness.

At the time I did not understand my feelings and emotions, it was a short lived thing, I knew it had no certain future, if any future at all...

But I later realized, 24 hours after I had talked to you, what was happening to me.

It came to me while I smoked a cigarette that Saturday night on my balcony after a long gaming session that should have eased my mind.

I want her

I want her

I want her damnit...

What was it again? 3,75% if I recall correctly

Those were the chances you and him had established for a person of finding their ideal partner.

Then why could I not be granted the chance to try my luck at it?

Winning the lottery was less likely, was it not? And you had said it yourself, well, he did... I deduced later that you were not as much into the whole open relationship thing as he was.

You were looking for freedom to engage in sexual activities, but were still afraid to fall for someone else... That much was clear to me after giving the whole situation some thought. You were probably feeling a similar attraction that I was, but you had a commitment and I was still mending myself after these past  years.

I talked to S, he invited me over to talk, we shared parts of our past, shared some tears together just like that Saturday night that I met you and S and I stayed up late talking about what a relationship entails.

We had things in common... more things than I had ever had with M...

Am I a fool?

For sure... But that is not negative in my eyes, it drives me forward.

Suddenly you also arrived, I waved you hello as if nothing had happened, as if everything was fine.

Once S left, I waited for you.

I still do...

You came up the stairs, I asked if we could talk, you invited me to your room, I stayed next to the door, probably because I knew that I would be making use of it in the near future...

We talked, we opened up, I asked you to not bullshit me with an explanation that bordered you selling me the idea that you were doing me a favor by not pursuing this any further.

"If you think we did not click for you, just say it!" I demanded "Please do not assume what my thoughts and emotions are or try to dictate what they will be, please do not do that"

You looked down and realized that I was right.

"Ok... I did not enjoy Thursday as much as I thought I would"

Did hearing that hurt?

Like a bitch

Was it better than not knowing what the next steps were?

Definitely

Even as I write this I do not know what goes on in your head... your smile frown that forms under your small nose and those glimmering eyes conveys nothing to me, I have to ask what is going on in your mind, if everything is alright. But you did not trust me to be strong enough to take the blow that Thursday night, little did you know at the time that not knowing had hurt e even more, but how could you?

You were thinking and feeling for both of us.

Destiny forbid I am right... but you are going to end up hurt with the way the things are... you and him are not on the same wavelenght... you have hitched that ride because it seemed convenient at the time taking into account your past experiences, but I doubt you follow the same easy going attitude towards the relationship he has... I hope I am wrong, I truly do.

But why am I addressing this to you?

What are the chances you will ever read this?

Close to 0, but there is, just like in my heart, the glimmer of hope that tells me that maybe you will read it, maybe I have a chance.

Am I a fool?

For sure.

I left that night, feeling that you would cry after I did, I know I was going to break down as soon as I crossed the threshold. And I did.

I unlocked the bike, lit a cigarette and rode home, regret falling emanating from my eyes as I slowly made my way into the night.

In a movie you could have asked me to stay.

In a movie I would have asked you to stay.

This is not a movie, this is the theater of life and the curtain had fallen on that night, closing the act.

I thought I was not going to hear from you even as I longingly stared at your profile picture.

You did write, asked what my plans were, I did the same. I again considered it to be the last message.

It was not...

You keep writing to me, responding, being somewhat playful...

How am I to deal with it?

Am I to consume my soul in the pyre of passion?

Am I to fade in the sandstorm of sorrow that lashes at my heart?

Am I a fool?

Without a doubt.

What the future entails... nobody knows... we write our own scripts and I, for one, have decided how the next act is going to look.

Have you done the same?

Are you feeling something remotely similar?

Can I trust what you say, if I know you do not deem me strong enough to deal with reality?

Somehow... it is not important.

Having you present in my life means a lot to me, gives me purpose, gives me direction.

You will most likely never read this, or maybe you will...

Will I write you a letter just like we playfully said we would today? Will I dare?

"I will toss a coin and decide based on that."

Only a fool would do that.

I do not let fate decide for me, I take life by the horns and push with the force of an immovable object in the opposite direction.

You may be unavoidable, fate/destiny, but I will not give up without a fight.

S said: "You have two options: you either talk to her and risk rejection or you let it be and accept it"

NO

Nobody but me decides my fate

I grab it with both hands, I pull it towards me and make it my bitch.

Tomorrow is a brand new day, and with every new sunrise, there is a new chance of improving, of learning, of growing, of overcoming... of living.

For that is live: getting rejected and not accepting it, fighting against it with all you have. Not in a brutish kind of way, but in the smart way.

Tomorrow is Sunday, and with the herald of light I will take my chances.

I kiss you goodnight on the forehead just like on Wednesday and hope that I will be able to do that at some point in the future.

My chances are slim, but better than none, and I cling to that for dear life.

You swept me off my feet, and now it is my turn to do the same.

Get ready for the new act, hear the orchestra playing the first notes of the vals of life, in which we all spin around between the madness and sanity, not wanting to stop for fear of death but afraid to spin out of control.

The curtain opens

The lights shine on my face

"Here I come" I whisper as I take a step forward

The house by the lake (PS: Epilogue)

Years had passed since the day on which I had found your lifeless body in your bed.

A smile on your face, the gentle rays of the sun illuminating the room, a gentle breeze that moved the curtains of the windows.

You seemed… content.

I was at first broken. A small child with no mother, a lot of responsibilities that I now had to carry on my own. Debt, joblessness, depression.

I found some solace in music and made it my passion and my sole purpose for the following months, neglecting our child and my responsibilities. I had some savings that I made use of during that time.

When I played the piano you felt alive again. I escaped into a world where you were still alive, ill, but alive. I could tell you about my worries, about my fears, about how our child was growing up, how the house we had acquired was slowly turning into a home thanks to your love for detail and good taste.

During the piano sessions, I was free.

But then came the crash…

The savings, which I knew could not last forever, did indeed run out.

Social services deemed me unfit for parenting and took our child away.

My family decided that I was too much of a burden to take care of and stopped writing to me and inviting me to their lavish celebrations.

I was alone, broke and alone.

Looking back I doubt I would be where I am today were it not for the pit I dug myself into. Maybe, deep down, I knew that the only way for me to rise was to burn everything to the ground and build it back up from scratch.

It took me months to find a job and a few years to regain custody over my child, I was lucky though, since to this day they have no memory of us ever being apart.

The passion and despair I felt back in that time fueled a torrent of emotions that helped me produce what, to this day, is considered one of the best, if not my best work.

I have gathered the courage to write what I hope will be the first of many letters. I know it has been a long time since we spoke… I would not be surprised if you hated me a bit for having taken so long, but I needed the loneliness, I needed the despair, the depression, the depths of the pit to claw myself out of.

Alex is growing up to be a fine child. I take them for long walks in nature and tell them about the different trees, I tried getting them into music, but it seems that the musical part of us is dying with me. Who would have guessed though, right? Child of two musicians refuses to partake in their parents hobby. I guess that is how children are, they have to find their own way after all.

I am doing fine now, I know that there are other ways I can get in touch with you, goodness knows I needed this, but was partly afraid, partly too numb to realize.

I hope this letter finds you well.

I promise I will be sending you one of these every month to keep you updated on how Alex and I are doing.

Yes, I promise I am fine, you do not have to worry now, I am capable of taking care of everything. Except decorating the house… that is something only you could do well… Alex does have your good taste though, so I let them buy decorations every once in a while to give the house a more homely feel to it.

My studio is sacred though, I need the chaos to reign absolutely supreme in there!

I have to go now, Alex is ready to go out bird-watching and is beckoning me to hurry up.

I loved you, I still do, and I forever will.

Yours only,

...

Like a moth to a flame

I can distinctly remember the moment I was mesmerizingly staring into the flame just one second shy of his sickle slitting my throat.

In that flame I say a great deal many things:

beauty expressed through my beloved walking through a barley field, the soft breeze gently swaying the picture with a loving caress.

Love through a fiery and sensuous night of carnal desire and uninhibited lust.

Promise, a small child slowly walking towards me, bright eyes, playful smile, not a worry in the world.

Peace

But as soon as those soothing images had vanished from my head, I saw the other side of the coin:

Famine: a small child starving as the obese walk past him, greasy food in their hands.

Ugliness: a corpse washed up by the shore, its entirety swelled up and putrid.

Loneliness: Myself strolling through the empty streets of the biggest metropolis imaginable

I saw all those things and more the moment before the sickle sliced my throat, and now I am trapped, condemned to relive that moment again and again along with the rest of the victims he claimed for his amusement.

Now and again we can avert our eyes from those visions and see the real world outside the lamp, the only distortion the green, eerie light that emanates from us and to the world of the living through the impenetrable glass of the lamp.

The world has changed.

He no longer inhabits the isles, he no longer murders for fun. He has yet again become a shadow of his former self, now fighting in the league for some bigger purpose than himself.

But here we are, trapped, for it was ruled that, since we give him power, we are to be the sacrifice made for the greater good.

We were attracted to the lamp like a moth to a flame, and now we shall inhabit it forever.

Descension

I turned my head to gauge the size of the forest.
How could i have not seen it from the wasteland, it as enourmous.
As far as my eyes could see there was forest all around, expanding like a green ocean on the surface.
I turned my whole body around to get the view of the other side.
There!
The wasteland started almost at the edge of my range of sight.
It was far far away... it would take days to get just to the edge of the forest...
How long had i run, it made little sense to me.
It was not relevant though, i had to make my way down to inform the daemon.
Then i made the mistake that nobody but me would have done in my situation:
i looked down.
My stomach dropped to my feet and i started to sweat profusely.
I was affraid of heights...
My head started to spin and  i felt a knot in the pit of my stomach.
I grabbed to the thin  trunk for dear life.
Why had i looked down, it was a mistake i knew i should have never made and yet i made it, how could i have been so stupid?
I held even tighter as i tried to steady my breathing and my heart, i closed my eyes as to shut my mind out of the world around me.
A small amount of bile made its way up my esophagus and ended in my mouth, i spat it out and opened my eyes once again.
I had to get down as soon as possible by my own will or i will leap down against it.
Going up had been easy, just grab a branch and get the rest of the body up there, getting down was a whole different story...
I slowly sat on the branch, careful not to lose my balance or slip to my death.
I hugged the branch tightly and started to turn my body around it as to end up face up so i could descend on the next branch. It had seemed easy enough in my mind yet my body had difficulty following my brains orders.
One i was positioned as i wanted, i let my legs go of the branch. My abs were not strong enough to hold the weight of my legs and they jerked down pulled by gravity straining my arms and making me desperately fight to not let go.
I dangled for a bit until i regained balance and then slowly let my arms slip around the branch so my feet could get contact with the next branch.
Left foot down, right foot down, and left foot slipped.
The world slowed down around me. I saw my foot slipping, i sensed my body skewing, my muscles tensing and my heart racing. As my body was almost horizontal on the branch i made an effort to grab the branch with my arms so i could avoid plummeting to what would surely be my death.
I managed to barely hold on but it wasnt enough, my body was still slipping, i dug my nails in the bark with the hope that it would suffice.
Lady luck favors those who try, or so the saying goes.
It worked, i was able to stop myself from falling at the expense of a nail that had left my finger, not able to withstand the strain that i had put on it.
The world returned to its normal speed.
I was yet again gasping for air, feet dangling, heart racing, muscles burning.
"I have to do it... i cant, i wont give up... not for me, for them..."
Once i had steadied my breathing i colleceted my thoughts and my strenght and continued my descent.
Dusk had already covered the land once i set foot on the ground.
"Its this way" i told the daemon while pointing at the right direction
*Good, lets find shelter for the night, we will resume on the morrow*

The Sch(e)ism

Everything happend too fast for my brain to really comprehend what was going on...
I catched my breath and focused on makinf sense of my surroundings.
I was in a cave of sorts, dark, humid, water running down one of the walls, the daemon was in a corner wounded, shivering, gasping desperately for air as was I.
I was sitting against a wall, my back drenched both with my sweat and the water dropplets that had collected on the surface.
"Where... are we...?" I managed to say
*Dont you... remember?* the daemon wheezed
"I...no... not really..."
*You are even dumber than I thought then...*
"..."
*Really? Nothing? Make an effort to remember your and my cowardice...*
"Cowardice...?"
I let my head fall on my chest and focused onn remembering how i had gotten to this place and why it was only the daemon and me. Where were Malcom and the ghost? Why werent they with us or better, why werent we with them?
The daemon scratched his claw on the rocky surface making a very wail-like strident sound.
Banshees...
Slowly the fog in my mind cleared and i started to remember.
We were all about to distract the banshees so we could continue our journey, i had seen a bottle and we were silently discussing how to execute the distraction.
I had volunteered to run and fetch the bottle and then throw it as far as i could so the banshees would go investigate the sound.
I remembered running to the middle of the road, picking up the bottle and facing in the direction of the banshees to throw it... but one had turned around while i was running and was getting ready lo lounge at me.
I stood there, frozen, not knowing what to do, thee fear had congealed in my veins rendering me completely inmobile.
I remember hearing Malcom screaming for me to get a grip and run, i remember the daemon transforming itself yet again for a new confrontation, i remember suddely being able to move and i remember running like i had never ran in my life.
From then on it was blurs of yellow and green and blue.
Then everything went black and i returned to myself in the cave.
"I...ran away..."
*You left them behind, yes... We left them behind, though not on my own accord*
"I... betrayed them... I am... a coward"
*Yes... that you are you fuggin idiot*
A solitary tear embarked on a journey down my grubby face.
*Dont you dare cry... not after what you have done... you could have avoided this, you could have fought, you could have stayed, but you didnt*
"Why... did you not stay with them...?"
*Im bound to you, remember?!* it roared as it stood up
It slowly made its way towards me
*My curse is to be alongside you for as long as you live no matter how idiotic your actions. I have to stay with you no matter how flawed you are and it is something only i must endure, for others are not bound to you as i am*
It was now in front of me. It stood on its hindlegs and pounded the wall with its paws only centimeters away from my face.
*And i swear, if you ever pull one of these again, i will make sure you never repeat that mistake, are we clear?* he whispered, its snout milimeters away from my nose.
I could both see and feel its breath on me.
"Yes... clear..." i managed to answer
*Good* it receded and coiled in one side of the cave *Rest for now and fugging think about the atrocity you have just commited, as soon as the sun raises we are out of here to look for them. And pray we do find them... and they are half as happy to see you as you will be of seeing them*
I quietly nodded and also slumped on the cave floor to try to get some rest that i knew i would not find in my dreams...

Lullaby for a princess

Dear sister,
i write to you to tell you of the burden i had to bear for so many years.
As day and night passed, the darkness in me grew ever greater seeing you become as popular as you did while i carried my sorrow in silence, the dark side of the moon i had become, hidden from plain sight.
I wished for my hate and sorrow to dissapear, but my struggle bore no fruit.
On the contrary, it increased my suffering and desire to gain all the favour you had.
After every smile i faked i had to cry myself to sleep.
You were great, brilliant, so... everything anyone could ever wish for.
Outgoing and kind...
I was reserved, introverted...
I tried everything i could, but weeks passed and nothing changed, i thought about talking it with you, but what could you do?
You tried to love me the way you knew best, but it served only to wretch me even further.
My destruction approached, my reneval did too.
Through the clouds i saw the moon, the only friend i could rely on in my troubled times, a friend with whom i spent an eternity after that fateful day in which i challenged you...
I wish for our reconciliation, i wish with all my might and i know we will somehow manage, as we are part of something even greater thatn ourselves.
After these thousand winters i came to understand that we were both needed.
My dreams rest in peace inside me, i know i will achieve them, i always knew i would, but i now know with wich means they will come true one day.
Thank you sister, thank you for everything you did back then and do every day to help me recover from my sorrow.


(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4tyvJJzSDk my source of inspiration this time)

...and I was able to catch on

The world started spinning  faster than I could bear once again.
Memories sped through my mind. I had to lay down once again to try and calm myself, but my heart was pumping too fast, my breathing was unbalanced, the little vision I had left blurred and faded to black.
I passed out just as she reached to me screaming and begging me to return.
I could not return, not now...
There are things I have to deal with in my deepest unconscious.
The thresher maw approaching us, there was the exit at the end of that corridor, but there was a huge jump, I would not be able to make it, I was too tired and even if I was at my best, I would not be able to.
I run, heart racing, lungs burning, muscles screaming in agony, I cant hear anything besides the sound of my own body, the blood running through my veins in the same fashion Im running through these corridors.
The end of the path is getting near, and it will be the end, one way or another.
Whatever happens at the cliff, it will be the end of an era and the beginning of another to me, wether I die or not will not affect this fact.
Do I want to die? NO!
Do I want to live? Hell yes!
Only a few meters remain, a recollection of the past months of imprisonment soar in front of my eyes, the darkness, the light bulb, writting, papers stacking in the corners of the room, getting new paper and pens by an unknown entity.
I would somehow miss these carefree times, but I knew I needed more than just pen and paper:
I wanted to see what was out there, write about it, tell to whomever might read this that my journey was an interesting and fulfilling one.
I wanted to live, heck, I wanted to feel the breeze on my skin, see a sunset, a sunrise, hear whatever there was to hear out there in the wild.
The cliff is one step away, whichever foot I set now will determine wether I will be able to make the jump or not... I have no time to think more than that, I am in the air already, trying to get to the other side...

Isolated

I dont know whats going on out there.
I hear noises, police sirens, people screaming, but I cant go out.
If they were to find me...
They would probably lock me up, too much I do know about what is going on in this city in comparison to the outside world.
This promised land is no more than a dystopia in a foreigners eyes such as mine.
Foolish of me to think that here I would find a peaceful place.
I cant imagine a place where more war is waged on a daily basis.
War against drugs, war against crime, war against prostitution, war against iliteracy, war against this, war against that, but war nevertheless...
And there is victims, criminals, colateral damage, investments, expenditures, guns, martyrs...
This city is the very definition of insanity and thought crime is just a few steps ahead.
I cant go out, I cant escape, this time I really am trapped...
They can not help me no matter how much they want.
I can only wait for a miracle I guess...

Poise(on)

Why do you poison me?
You say you love me, you say you want to see me fly
yet every day you rip some of my feathers off
and off i go into solitude and confinement
for the resentment i feel is way beyond words
that may describe any emotion
Devotion is what you think i should feel
yet nothing nearly as good forms in
my wretched mind wandering
with the wind i go
and with the wind that brought me
ill leave
not alone
not affraid
not broken

Only one

Only one can understand what it means to live, to struggle with those little problems that look like mountains when we have to face them and, when looking back, are nothing more than molehills.
Only one can understand what those little things mean to us, what they entize, how valuable they are.
And you sit in front of me, Queen of my dreams, giving me everything and nothing at the same time, caring yet neglecting me, boosting yet loathing me, kissing yet killing me.
Only we can understand what this means, what the one means, what we feel.
I remember your warmth every morning, I picture your smile and the sun rises up in the sky, I imagine your pain and darkness clouds my domain.
One so powerful, with such grace, giving away pleasure and pain.
To you I deem these lines, my only one.

She looks up from the torn piece of paper.
"Who is the recipient of this letter?"
*Nobody right now, but perhaps in the future there will be somebody to whom I will send it*
"But how can you speak about somebody you do yet not know?"
*Because I know myself and I know what my feelings will be, who she is matters not, who I am does*
"..."
*I wrote that on a gloomy day, dont mind it too much*
I hold my hand towards her and she places the torn piece of paper in it.
*Time to move, is it not?*
"Damn right it is, you lazy-ass"
*Good morning to you too, Daemon*
"Less chit-chat and more moving, I wanna see the sunlight"
I sigh deeply as I rearrange the contents of the folder for the last time.
*Done... I think*
"Lets do it then"
*Yeah, lets head out*

The metamorph

Adrenaline pumping in my veins, almost replacing the blood which usually
makes its way there.
Bloodshot eyes, the thundering pumps of my heart echoing in my ears, the
force of each heartbeat tearing my sternum apart, burning lungs grasping for
the next breath, the lactic acid in my muscles threatening to tear them
apart.
If the banshees dont get me, I am going to die anyway due to all the shit
going on in my body right now.
Step by step, and breath by breath ,every second counts to escape my
death.
But death seems as certain as it has ever been.
The howling grows louder, the shrieking pierces my ears.
I take a look back.
They are only 20 meters away while I am almost at the doorstep, but their
speed is mine tenfol and I cant imagine myself reaching the safety of the
building.
I trip...
I fall...
Im virtually dead...
I am lucky enough to fall in such way that my eyes meet the cloud of dust
approaching my location.
Death approaching and I can witness my end.
My eyes go dry, I need to close them but I am affraid to.
Darkness.
I hear a roar.
Its nothing I have ever heard before, it doesnt sound neither human nor
natural, something not from this world.
And yet it also seems familiar, as if I had heard it before.
I dare to open my eyes and confront my inminent doom.
But what I see by far exceeds my expectations.
There is a faint red glow to the scene, a black antropomorphic fox-like
creature with a patch of red glowing hair and blood-red fangs is standing in
front of the banshees, showing its teeth, spicked hair on its back.
Its the only thing standing between me and the shrieking deathbringers.
I turn my gaze and meet hers. She is as baffled as I am but as she realises
what is going on, she quickly flies to me, grabs me by under my arms and
starts dragging me inside.
Its only 10 cm away now.
5 cm
1 cm
I reach out with my arm and grab the doorhandle.
*click*
The door opens and I fall on the floor.
The door closes behind me.
Just now I am again able to percieve the world around me.
I see her at the window, worried eyes looking at the morph.
It is waging a mental war against the pack standing in front of him.
I didnt really have time to wonder where my defender had come from or what
its motives were.
I slowly sink into unconsciousness...

Shortcomings

"You have to hurry, dusk is coming and we are almost there, please hold on
just a little more!" - she sounded desperate and she truly had a reason to.
We were almost at the entrance of the village, but dusk seemed to move
faster than I did, nothing surprising considering the state in which I had
started the journey and the lack of nourrishment during the journey. Where
the food I had gathered was gone, I had no clue.
*You are gonna get yourself killed if you dont speed up a little*
"I know... i know" I wheezed under my ragged breath.
The entrance lay just 10 meters away and the nearest house which wasnt
completely shut close 15 meters away.
Dusk was just 3 minutes away and I really doubted of my ability to close the distance between me and my goal in time.
I heard a shrieking scream in the distance.
"They are coming..." - she whispered breathless with her eyes opening wide in terror.
*You sucker better get a grip of yourself and fucking get your ass inside the house in 1 minute or all your efforts will end up here*
I was already dragging my feet on the dust, unable to move at a faster pace.
"What is that howling sound?" I muttered.
"The Banshees coming for you, please move faster, they are almost here"
*If you dont sprint, you are doomed...* the daemon started to look nervous
"Why would you care anyway?"
*I am part of you, you dick, if you die you drag me with you*
"Figures"
I try to quicken my pace, really wishing it is enought for me to elude my
unknown hunters.

The Leash

And you remembered that song you used to listen to long ago.
Not did you remember because of nostalgia, you remembered because you felt the pain depicted in it.
Just like the lyrics preached, he broke your throne, but he was not satisfied with cutting your hair, he had to cut your wings.
And now you feel grounded, as if nothing was real anymore, as if there was no reason to keep pushing.
Each day the sun rises, light bathes your room, but whenever it touches you, you feel no warmth.
Just another pointles day after another and so the weeks go on:
Get up, get ready, get out, get on, get in, get out, get in , get in...
The monotonous existence you think to live is ruining your imagination, your happiness.
Its time for you to open your eyes and see your surroundings.
There are others that care for you, others that love you, many who appreciate your friendship.
You got your reasons, you got your beliefs, you got us...

Free yourself from the shackles of the past and embrace the future with such love that even the foundations of your past will crumble.
You have done this before, I know, what keeps you from doing it once again?
Unleash yourself

Turmoil

The star lit sky gave me no rest on this night.
All the turmoil and caos around me promised many restless nights, if there
was ever to be a good night sleep for me.
How could so many believe in something so cruel, something so erratic, so
random, so unfair.
Was god real?
Doubt it...
And even if he were, i would not bow down to him even if he were to descend
from the heavens and in person asked me to join him.
Suffering, poverty, hunger, wars, terrorism...
If he sat and watched all that happen, he was not worth praising.
I could only fathom what frustration it was for some to hear others praising
god for a job well done by them.
If the operation goes as thank god.
If it didnt, the surgeons fault.
Such a double standard made me mad to the point of having to take a few
long breaths in order to repress the urge to hit something.
Miraculous recovery, its gods work, its a miracle, cant you see? What more
proof do you need?
I would definitely need some solid proof, not just the dreams and delusions
of mad men wanting the invisible dinosaur in the dark room to be real.
As real as the Alicorn sitting next to me while im writting this. Her mane
flowing with the wind, whispering sweet words into my ear, telling me
everything will turn out for the best.
A person that hears voices in his head: a madman.
A person that hears gods voice in his head: a saint, a chosen one, a holy
person and other names like that.
No different to me, those who listen to voices in their head are crazy.
Yeah... I know that Snowy... Yes, i am crazy myself, Snowy agrees.
I am mad myself, yet i have achieved the clarity and state of mind to
aknowledge that i didnt go crazy by myself, the world made me this way.
Or am i just pretending i am mad so that i may seem human?
I may just be wearing a mask, just like everybody else, so that i dont have to
deal with the idiocy and lunacy around me.

If i were to preach Snowy's religion to the others claiming that it is the true
one, i would end up locked up in sanitarium, where all the worlds preachers
should be.

See that, Snowy?
See the madnes?
See the sadness?
See the suffering?
The greed? The hate?
The egocentristic mindset of the society i have to live in?
Good thing you dont have to live here, i dont think you would make it through
the day.
Seeing all the enslaved animals, the poluted rivers, the cut down trees, all
that they call progress.
I sometimes wish i could leave almost everything behind and go live with
chinese monks or with a tribe, no matter the place, just live a simple life.
Almost all i would be glad to leave behind, yet my friends and my partner is
worth going through what seems like hell in order to keep them by my side.
As precious they are to me as a diamond.
You are precious too, Snowy, dont be jealous.

And now i rise, not as a hero, but as a villain to society, the villain this
society deserves, someone to take the blame, to make them open their
eyes to the real world they are living in.
No reward i expect, no sign of gratitude.
Stones, laughter, insults... that i expect.
I will welcome every single blow because i know that at the end of the day i
will be doing what is best for them.
For now i return to the shadows, not really knowing what lies ahead, but
knowing what i strive for.
My eyes will get acustomed to the darkness, my body to the beatings, my
hand to the grip of this pen, for i shall tell my journey to whomever would like
to read.

You will hear from me sooner than you think, untill that time comes, i bid
farewell.

The house and the lake... continuation

Three months had passed since i last set foot on the dusty doormat.
Nobody but me took care of this place and i had had not too much time for that either.
So the dust and dirt had made itself at home.
As i opened the windows in each room, shame overwhelmed me.
My duty to keep this place incorrupt... i hadnt been able to fulfill.
I took care of the cleaning disregarding the time it would take me.
I had plenty of that now that my dreams had been finally crushed.
No job, no place to stay but the house by the lake and all the memories hanging in the air as if they
were silent ghosts judging me with their penetrating gaze.
I came to this place to try out some pills a friend had given me not too long ago.
He told me they would work wonders on my creativity and my self esteem, making me get past the
sadness that threatened to consume me.
I had taken the pills, but internally refused to take them.
I would deal with my problems myself, as i had always done and i would work my way to the top without
the use of external inspiration.
I thought the grief and all the lingering emotions would act as my muse.

Oh, but how wrong was I?
Very wrong... very very wrong...
Nothing had come out of it, no inspiration, no great compositions, not even a decent hit...
And so i sat in the middle of the living room, staring out of the window into the willow and the lake.
The bottle of pills in my right hand and the guitar lying in front of me.
If this didnt work, then i had nothing to lose anyway.
I popped open the white lid that separated me from an endless sea of posibilities and despair and
swallowed one of those little orange pills.

A 20 written on one side, "732" on the other and an obliterating sadness took over me.
I knew that the effects wouldnt kick in until after at least 2 hours, so there were 2 dreadful hours ahead
of me.
I closed the bottle up, took the guitar, leaned back in order to lay on the floor and put it on my belly.
A quick glance at the ceiling revealed that i had missed a huge spot while cleaning and a solitary spider
span its sily web all over the lamp that lifelessly hung from a single cable.
I was usually afraid of spiders, but right now i didnt care that much. And she was too far away and
under control.
That was the only thing i had under control at that moment, though.

I started feeling a tad bit better, so i got up from the floor and hung the guitar around my neck.
A song about a spider? Nah...
A song about the fear of the spider? Better...
I started strickig chords in an apparently random pattern.
Slowly it started taking shape, developping from a ghastly idea to a solid secuence.
I hummed a tune while playing at first, but that just wasnt enough.
I stopped playing but kept humming, i had to get this on tape or something. I got the recorder out of the
guitar bag, placed it on the table, hit the record button and kept playing.
Soon the lyrics started pouring out of my mind, through my gut and into the room.

I dont know how much time i spent senslessly jamming in the room, all i know is that i took a break
when daylight was about to pass away.
Now it was time to listen to what i had been doing for the past 5 hours.

The House and the Lake (Prelude)

"If there was anything i could do..."
"There is nothing you could do..."
"Maybe not now, but, who knows, maybe in the future..."

We had a fight like this once in a while.
It was just too hard for us both to accept that she wouldnt be around in a
short amount of time.
We were aware of the fact that everybody dies, nobody is free from their duty
towards the grave. But her case was different.
If someone died in their sleep from a heart attack, it was a shock for
everybody, but it couldnt be helped.
But if someone was slowly being eaten away by a sickness with no possible
cure, then the situation changed.
We tried our best to live every single day as if it would be her last and as if
she would live forever, but sometimes we got blown away by reality,
impossing itself on us, forcing us to look to its way. There wasnt too much
time left.
She didnt play the violin anymore.

"Why waste time on that?"
"Because art has never and will never be a waste of time"

Sometimes i convinced her with that simple statement. She would get up
from the bed and get the old, yet beautiful and heavenly sounding Stradivarius
violin out of its case. She would play enthralling music, making me loose
myself in its wake, completely possesed by the magic of each note.
Slowly dripping on me, the melody made its way from the violin to infinity.
That sound would always be there, no matter if she would not play anymore,
no matter if she were to fade away. The memory remained and thus she
would live on with me, no matter what, no matter when.
While i listened to her i gazed at the old willow that poured its branches into
the lake.
A lake full of life.
And our house would remain as full of life as the lake as far as we would
make it toghether.
And time played no role no more.
We had to life each day through. Nothing mattered more than her, her well
being, her everything...

Unbroken silence would hang in the air after she finished playing.
She would then put the violin back in its case, sadness stricken picture
painted on her face, a lonely tear rolling down her cheek.
It had become a habit for me to collect that tear and put it in a jar with the
rest of her sisters, so they would stay toghether and keep company.
I would do the same for her as long as i could.
Laying on the bed, her breath steady for maybe not too long, her head on my
chest. I would stare at the ceiling watching time pass by, not giving us a
spare minute to enjoy toghether...

The broken

the ilusion
dream of my dream
hidden from my hands
deaf to my tongue

the forest
silent, complete
falling appart

split up the oceans
shatter the seas

for what comes within
stays within
and everything fades

not a speck of light will remain
in my future
the domain of the web
the spider that crosses
pearls of piece stained on its home

from above comes death
it feeds from
and from comes it
and it shall devour us all

blood streaming
the valley tinted
the village flooded
and happyness shall reign

and thou who hath found it
repent repent
the saviour doesnt need your petty crimes
neither does he need your excuses

it all will be told
in the velvet lined book
stained with ink
where the truth is what claimed
and yet there is nothing to be heard

The house and the lake

I looked out of the window.
The lake offered a dazzling look at this time of the year. The autumn leaves slowly falling from the trees and onto the lake itself, the fish swimming as if in slow motion, and the willow pouring its branches into the lake. The lake was truly the main source of life here.
Only a few dim rays of light fell into the room.
The dusty furniture reminded me of the old days in which we used to spend afternoons together, just watching the lake, not caring about the rest of the world.
She was the rest and the only thing in my world.
Laying on the shore, skygazing.
The clouds could become anything we wanted them to, there were no boundaries, there were no limitations, only our imagination as the only barrier. And her imagination was one of the most colorful and brilliant i ever met. Not a single cloud remained without turning into something never seen before. From trees to animals, pieces of furniture, sweets, fruits...
Anything she could paint on the clouds, and anything i would give right now to see her one more time, to feel her warmth on my shoulder, to hear her give birth to new clouds.

...

But life isnt that easy, those were words spoken by her while in her deathbed, still, you must carry on. You have to do it for yourself, but in times you may not find the strenght, then do it for me, for all the things we havent done yet, for all that life still owes me.
Keep living for me, for my memory, for as long as you life, i will live within you adn shall not die.
My body may have become fragile but my mind is still as bright as the first day we met, wouldnt you agree?
I could just nod while i held my tears back.
It wasnt fair, we had barely even met...
What is two years in the life of a man?
Nothing...
From that time we had met in the park until this day only two short years had passed, and that wasnt time enought to enjoy a persons company. I knew her, but i didnt fully know her, and that had been my only desire.
I had made my vows despite us not being married.
I had promised myself that i would keep her from harm,  that through any kind of weather id want us to be together, that id get to know her entirely, every inch of her skin, every corner of her mind, be for her a shoulder to cry on...
And there were many things i would not be able to do...
Her illness made her condition worse every day. The doctors said that her lifespan shortened every hour.
I couldnt bear the thought of losing her, thats why i remained by her side the entire time.
Are you ok, honey? she asked.
What could i tell her? I was in pain, but the suffering she had to go through made my misery seem... so little.
Yes, yes i am ok. Was all i could say.
I grabed her hand tightly and gave her a kiss on the forehead. She smiled weakly.
That night she passed away.
It was like in one of those books she liked to read. Peacefully, silently...
After she expired her last breath my eyes started cascading uncontrollably.
Now the pain was on me.
I lay on her and cryed my entire being out on her.
All our shared memories coming back to my mind, all the times spent together, the good times, the not so good times, in which she would just storm out of the room and lock herself up.
At that time i thought it bitter and cruel of her.
Now it seemed so feeble and unimportant.
Everything did.

...

The sun had set.
Time had passed.
She had told me that one time that i had to live on for the both of us and her wish i would fulfill.
I turned my gaze from the window.
The violin case in the corner of the room, just where she had left it.
I took some steps and hesitantly stood in front of it.
I had never had the courage to open it without her permission, but it felt as if it would be allright to do now.
I carefully lifted it from the ground and with it i went to the kitchen table.
That table used to be full of vegetables and fruits, now it was empty, as was the vast majority of the house.
I put the case on the table and undid the locks.
One of them shriecked, as if refusing to be opened.
I backed off.
Maybe it wasnt such a great idea, but it was open now, there was no turning back.
I lifted open the case.
There it was, her violin, untouched, uncorrupted, damned to be alone for all time now that nobody could play it, unable to cry...
I carefully took it out of the case. It was truly a work of art, to craft something so delicate.
It had her smell on it.
A solitary tear escaped my eye. I put it back to where it belonged and made my way to the doorway.
Just before i locked the door, i took one final peek inside.
Everything was where it should be, i could leave in peace.
I closed the door, took a deep breath and started walking with no direction, with no purpose yet.
I would find it though, i was sure of it.

The cactus and other horrors

I just dont feel up to the task of living through this day.
That was the first thought that crossed my mind that day. A long, restless night had left me devastated.
The message in the middle of the night, telling both good and bad news.
My feelings right now?
I cant describe...
Just a pain somewhere deep inside me i cant neither locate nor compare to anything felt before.
Id like to say so much, yet i feel like i should remain silent for the sake of... for the sake of I dont know...
The best way to describe how i feel right now is to make a comparison with the story of the boy and the cactus. I feel like the boy, hugging tight to the cactus, hurting himself, slowly bleeding away while the cactus shares my pain and silently begs me to stop hugging him for my sake.
But i cant stop...
I keep on hugging and the cactus, despite trying to show afection and sometime getting the message across, remains silent for now.
Tears roll down my face, burn my cheecks.
I take the cup and willingly take a sip, i did it quite some time ago, knowing that it could contain either the sweetest liquor or the most bitter poison i had ever tasted.
Right now it tastes bitter like death.
It tasted somewhat sweet at first. Over time, its taste changed and varied from sweet to bitter sometimes in just a few seconds, still i drank.
Over time it has gotten somewhat sour, but the possibility of it getting sweet again made me keep drinking.
I could experience the joy of its sweetness some nights, just to be confronted with its bitternes at breakfast.
Why did i take this cup? What did i see in it?
For some, it may not be the best, it may not be richly decorated, but posseses a power that no other cup could ever wish to have.
If you got lucky, this cup would turn any drink into the best ever tasted, all the bitter sips that may be poured inside would turn into liquid gold.
A kind of philosophers cup that would make life so sweet. Yet if unlucky, you may stumble upon this cup without the necessary knowledge and taste the worst drink ever brewed.


The light hadnt turned on for the past few days.
I had to writte in the dark, not knowing how the outcome would look like and even if it would be legible.
Still i wrote frantically, like some kind of possesed maniac with an unknown purpose.
I wrote both during day and night, for in the dead of night only awaited loneliness and nightmares.
But not the usual nightmares, no. My fate was far worse than mere nightmares. They were memories brought back by my unconscious, deformed, distorted and horribly real.
I felt as if i had been there, experiencing all the pain and all the suffering i had done in the past, but multiplied by the distortion.
People i knew, people i loved all faded into darkness and came back as horrible shadows of their former selves, bringing torment unknown to any mortal man .
After the third day of getting no rest, the nightmares came true in form of hallucinations.
He tried to reassure and confort me with smooth words and hard facts:
"They are not real, snap out of it, you and i both kow they wouldnt do this to you, they werent like that, you do remember them, dont you? All the good times spent with them, all the memories, you have to try to remember the true events instead of the distortion"
All that didnt help, despite my efforts, i couldnt remember almost anything, thus rendering the hallucinations more real.

Im writting this on a scrap of paper, cornered, battered, beaten and destroyed.
I dont know if i will be able to survive through this day... Im trying, hell knows i am, but i dont seem to see nor a lantern nor a light at the end of my particular tunel.