Fear and Hope, two sides of a coin

 Im afraid

Afraid of having feelings I shouldn't have

I cant control them, but I can control the way I go on about them

And on the other hand there is hope

Bright like a candle in the dark, showing me the possibility of a future I had not been able to envision for the past 3 years

The anniversary is coming up and, for the first time in years, I feel like there is hope for me

I might be able to feel what I felt back then, to experience what I did back then

But not with her

I cant do it

I dont fear for my own sake, but for hers

And I dont know what her take is

But I cant act

And in this teenage like turmoil of emotions I am stuck

Wishing on one hand

Knowing the stakes in the other

realizing that there is no chance, that always in the back of my mind

And still... I smile genuinely again

I make silly jokes, she laughs

I... I feel again

I am anxious again

I wonder again

I fantasize again, despite those fantasies being reduced to ash as soon as reality kicks in and I hold my reins and settle down

But... I feel

Never would have I ever thought that I could go back to that state

And yet... here I am

Feeling what I shouldnt, hoping for what I shouldnt, wishing for what is forbidden

No matter what happens and how this ends (which will likely be in an aching heart but a clear conscience), I now know that I can feel again, that I am not broken, that there still is hope for me

I have not died emotionally, and that keeps me sane, keeps me hopeful, and yet so afraid

Turning Point

 Did it all go wrong?

I do have the feeling, but I am not sure, its one of those things one cant ascertain, its more of a feeling, and an uncertain one at that

Did I make a grave mistake, perhaps even the worst mistake of my life?

Have I thusly forfeited any chance at happiness?

I can not tell for certain, but I have experienced things and seen things I wish upon nobody

The despair

The lonely nights

The depression

The tears shed in public transportation, the looks of empathy, the sharing of tissues, the start of nocive behaviors

The rash decisions that end up in even deeper cuts and greater hurt

Going out with your new special someone and, when they are not in field of sign at the mall you are visiting, daydreaming/fantasizing/hallucinating that she comes around the corner, that everything that happened was a terrible, terrible nightmare that you had

But, as much a nightmare as it is, I do not wake up

She doesnt appear from the corner of the store in the mall

The new special someone does, and my heart collapses

That relationship doesnt last

Will this one?

No it wont, its already over, you know it, but they dont, and how to tell them?

They are so invested, so happy, it does them well to have you around them, but is it helping you, is it doing you any good?

Do you have the courage to tell them that it does not really work for you anymore?

You will eventually have to tell them...

But then what will happen to you?

Again alone?

Again miserable?

Indulging, sometimes, in the same nocive behavior? Making rash decisions?

Drowning the loneliness in stupid hookups with strangers to not feel empty for those few hours, just to feel worse later on?

Or might you rise this time?

Its been 3 years already

And yet you cant really say that you are completely over her

You daydream of talking to her, asking for a second chance

But you blew it, and you know it

YOU were the one that made the decision for you both, and its your burden to carry

Do I deserve happiness?

Do I deserve to fulfill the plan that is slowly coming together?

Or am I condemned to be a martyr for someone else, to be good for others while being miserable inside?

I wonder

Do I have the right, after having made such a grave mistake, to find someone that might fit me as well as she did? Do I even have a chance, statistically speaking?

Or are those years gone and I am condemned to live with my immaturity, my cowardice, my lack of self reflection?

But I am getting better, am I not?

Will that be enough?

Is it enough right now, or do I have to keep working on myself to have a shot at that which I desire?

Is me writing this down going to make a difference?

Is there another turning point in the horizon, as I approach my 30th birthday?

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 golden oxen

We made away with the ever vigilant eye when we destituted the golden oxen.

We did not desire to be watched, to be controlled, to be judged at all times.

We wished for freedom, for the abolishment of the chains, for the fall of the giants, for the dawn of the era of man.

Instead we witnessed our efforts fade like sain slides between a childs fingers, evading their grasp.

Religions rose, controlling, contriving, cunning convoluted and chaotic contrivances.

Empires fell, dull, disastrous, despotic leaders torn down from their thrones.

Technologies evolved, teaching, telling, sharing, spelling the words for the future to come.

Ideas took over, better, worse, worst, best, some best kept under lock and key, some best shared with the world.

But in the end, even though we thought the golden oxen to be erradicated from the world, they had been biding their time, from the shadows, from the depths, like a titan waiting for the time of man to come to an end.

And they rose, magnificent, apparently magnanimous, promising freedom we already had, stability we had already achieved, security we had already made for ourselves. They coated, concealed, inscrutably and indeterminately hid it from us, told us it was for the best. It was in our interest. Meanwhile they moved with their maquinations, making the world a maquiavelian nightmare.

And we sat and watched.

Heartache

This was how it was supposed to be.
My fate, if you will. Though I did quicken it.

They is gone into the world now, a world which does not understand them but also does not recognize them.

It had been too long since a human had set foot in the kingdom, and when they did, they were quickly taken care of.

I could not stop him... I knew what he was doing to them was wrong and I did express my disgust, but he had already taken the decision and there was nothing I could do to prevent the gruesome actions he would make and the innocent lives he would take...

Already six of them...

It was always the same story, even though I tried changing my approach, warning them in different ways, trying to make them stay and thus avoid their fate...

They wanted to leave and I could not protect them once they left these walls

I swore I would not in my lifetime ever set foot in the kingdom were I not on my way to leave. The thought of meeting him again... I could and can not bear. Too much has happened, my love is almost extinguished, I have given too much of my flame.

Now I am starting to feel the cold. Both from having shared the last bit of the flame I had and from the wound in my stomach.

They have left with a clear purpose, with only one thing in their minds. Why were they so different from the rest? What was driving them to behave the way they did...?

I have an epiphany

It is you... it is both of you...

You are playing your game all over again, but this time insanity has stepped to the playfield and lay down its own cards and rules.

One of you will have to concede defeat... And the mere thought of any of you losing this macabre game pains me to no end.

At least it will be over now, no more games, no more heartache.

Doing what is right

Not always easy, not always what you want to do.
Doing what is right takes effort, strenght, willpower.
But those are traits shown in those who accomplish their goals, make their dreams come true.
You look at the clock and realize that you should have started doing what is right quite some time ago.
Fret not, its never too late to start doing what is right.
Start off small, do little things and slowly escalate it to the bigger things in your life that you know you have to do right.
Eat right, sleep right, commit to what you like, spend more time being productive...
And always enjoy, for doing things the right way will bring satisfaction no matter how hard the task was, no matter how much time you had to spend.
For me doing what is right sometimes involves doing things i dislike, but i know the goal is well worth it.

On the world as we knew it

Trust
such a small word that meant the whole world to us
we trusted everyone, we trusted everything
and when that trust was betrayed, we were left with nothing but ourselves
they took away our family, our jobs, our lives
and replaced them with needs of their own
We trusted them to guide us
We trusted them to help us
They used us
They abused us
They sent us to war for an ideal bigger than ourselves
Many believed that, many more died for it
Those of us left
We moved
We adapted
We waited for the storm to blow over
And when the Funghi hit the sky we knew our hopes had been placed on individuals not worthy of Trust

Our tears fed the starving soil of the wastes for the first time
And our lives began anew with more uncertainty than ever before

Recollection of rememberances

It was hard being alone in the room...
Writting helped, the ghost helped, the daemon helped in his own twisted way, but it was lonely and sometimes depressing.
And yet i look back fondly at the memories i made back then, at the writtings i produced back then, the time spent in solitude, the confort of being shielded off the outside world.
There was a strange feeling of delight knowing that no matter what, i would be safe here.
Out there... i did not know what was out there and frankly i had no intention of finding out at first, everything i needed i had in the room.
My spirit of adventure got the best of me though and i left, but what i found was not what i expected.
But what exactly did i expect anyway?
Before being locked away the world was doing not so well, so why would that have changed in my absence?
A bitter place this world is, not by itself of course, but by the people that inhabit it.
People fighting over matters so trivial in my young eyes... and still trivial in my old eyes.
They say that war never changes, but they are wrong...
The one that never changes is manking, thus making everything stagnant.
War doesnt change because humankind does not change...
Where do i stand amidst this madness?
Do i want to change how the world works or die trying?
Or do i want to live my life with no regard of the world, doing what i want to do till my time is taken from me?

Enjoying the small things

As time went on and i got older, i learned that the best way to enjoy life was to learn to enjoy the small things, the things that happen in your everyday life and that are easily done or obtained.
That way you will get a little boost every day that will make your day brighter.
For me it was writting.
No matter if in the darkness of the room, the wasteland, the metropolis...
The sound of the pen scratching the paper always somehow managed to soothe me and invigorate me.
Seeing the characters come to life after the ink left the pen somehow seemed magical to me.
And the best part was that it was something i could do anytime for as long as i had the pens and paper at hand, which in the end was almost 100% of the time.
Many dont understand that writting, the act of writting to be precise, can be so enjoyable.
No matter what comes out of the act, wether its a story worth keeping or just another writting experiment gone wrong, it always makes my day brighter, my soul lighter.
My point being:
try to implement in your everyday life something small but significant to you so that it fills your day and gives it meaning.
It helped me a lot through the hardships i had to endure...

Retrospective

It is funny to look back sometimes, see what you had to do to get to where you are now.
I try to avoid that as it brings forth one too many bad memories, but still I can't refrain from doing so.
Looking back, it all makes sense, like a little line of pebbles that stretch from the start of your journey to your present.
But back in the day it all seemed confusing, it all seemed strange, it all seemed... alien.
I still feel alienated from time to time, i look at the pebbles and some dont seem to follow the pattern the others do, yet they hold their rightful place firmly as to confirm that they have been placed there for a reason.
I look back at all the white pages i filled with my thoughts, my feelings, it all makes sense, it enlightens me.
Lost as I was in myself, i could have never imagined a way out of there, yet here i am:
Walking the street as any other man, enjoying the simple things in life, the things that truly give meaning to it, still writting, still fighting, still sharing, for sharing is what started this journey, and sharing it will end.
For now... I dare you to find me before i tear down the fabric of this distopia.
Best of luck to you in your journey

...

"He cant be serious, can he?"
"How should I know?!"
"I mean... there is absolutely no way for him to be here, is there?"
"After all I have read, I can most certainly say I am ready to believe anything at this point. Think about it: how did his writtings get here in the first place?"
"I assume the police caught wind of them and decided to lock them up so noone could get acces to them"
"What if... What if he locked them inside here on purpose?"
"Huh?!"
"Yes, what if he locked them here on purpose so that nobody besides people like us would find it?"
"Hm.... never thought of that"
"Maybe he really is here..."
A rattling sound startled them both.
"It cant be..."
"I..."
A mouse quickly made its way into the gutter.
"Just a mouse..."
"I almost got a heart attack..."
A voice behind them startled them for a second time
"I think the best time to have one would be right about now!"

They quickly turned around

On the art of flowing characters

What is writting?
Is it conveying a message?
Telling a story?
Sharing an experience?
For me, writting was a little bit of all of the above. But most of all it was laying bare what i felt inside. It was also a tool to help me better analyse and process the events that were happening all around me.
No matter what I wrote or what had happened, seeing it on paper, having put it to paper, it somehow felt like i was reading someone elses story and so i could give myself advice.
In my darkest days i could not write everything down, it was too overwhelming, too deep.
Daring to stare ones own abyss in the eyes...
I still remember those days on the wastelands, having to struggle every single day just for the night to arrive and then to repeat the cycle over and over again.
Having left the dark room with all it enticed, it had food, heat...
But as harsh as the conditions got, it somehow felt that anything i could get from the scarce resources i could gather was more satisfying.
I depended on myself, i had to take care of myself, i had to survive each and everyday.
It felt good...

When doing something new

Nothing is easy if it is new to you.
Your environment changes constantly and you have to adapt to it or you have to shape it to cater your needs.
When starting something new, dont give up easily, be persistent, be active, try to improve.
No one will tell you that it is easy, and no one can tell you how rewarding it might be.
Dont just dream about something working out or hope for the best, work for it, work towards it.
Make a schedule and keep it, adapt it when necessary, for you and only you, when being honest with yourself, can measure wether or not you are actually doing as much as you should.

The first step is the hardest, and the ones that follow might be just a little bit easier.
But each step should be in itself a reward.
And the last step, the most rewarding of your entire journey

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)

For the greater good

For the greater good many sacrifices are made, many lives lost, many dreams crushed.
For the greater good, or the alledged one, is for which we would invest all we have.
It is for this reason many spend restless nights thinking and many days working.
We need to focus, as the greater good is not something to tread lightly with.
What is the greater good, is there really a greater good?
Is it part of a greater good to sacrifice others? For a greater good we cannot even prove.
Is the greater good the needs of a few? The needs of many? Or the needs of us all?
Is the greater good the needs of the human race, or the needs of te entire ecosystem wich we inhabit?
Do not tread lightly on such words
For the greater good may not be what you have been defending and believing in so many years.
Will the individual good bring about the greater common good, or will the common good bring about the individual greater good?

Renewal is a necessary evil

It took me a long time, but I was finally able to recover from the darkness in which I had fallen.

I was lucky though, I knew others had fallen and never recovered, others had been able to escape with a bruised body and a scarred mind.

I opened my eyes, the daemon was laying next to me, slowly yet steadily breathing, probably having a dreamless sleep.

She was nowhere to be found.

It did not surprise me though, unbeknownst to me was the time and thus I could not wonder wether it was normal for her to be gone or not. I put my hand on the daemon's head, he had retained his beast form from when he fought the banshees, and carefully petted his head. I'd have to thank him once he woke up.

My eyes got accustomed to the dim light and I could get a clear image of my surroundings.

Some time had passed, that was for sure, they had changed the arrangement of the furniture and barricaded the door, surely affraid of retribution.

I patted the daemon on the head and tried to get on my feet. My legs shook as I slowly put more weight on them. I stood on my feet, wobbly, insecure, but with the firm conviction that I had to regain control over my body and start doing something, anything.

The creeping feeling that I had been gone for too long was once again making itself confortable inside my mind. I could only hope that I had not been out more than a week, time was of little meaning while unconscious.

Inch b inch I made my way through the room, holding my hands out in front of me in case I were to trip. Turns out it was a great idea seeing as I lost my footing after I heard a strange voice saying:

"Glad yer awake pardner"

Life went on without me...

She remained silent for a moment, as if pondering the words she was about to speak.
*I dont really know how to beginn with this tale, there is so much to tell...*
"I think we have plenty of time, you dont have to worry about that, take your time" - I calmly told her as I directed my gaze to the window.
The wasteland underwent no change from one day to the other, the horizon and the sun made the ilusion of slight change real.
*It is a little complicated and mysterious*
"I'm ready for whatever you have to tell me"
*I sure hope so* - she looked out of the window one last time and then saw me right in the eye.
*We waited for the hatch to open so we you could get out... but we had not quite thought about how much time it would take you to get there before the hatch closed yet again, so the problems started there, we had to use the tray to block the closing gate, which probably triggered some kind of alarm, which we did not notice at the time but found out later*
She stopped her narration and looked at me, as she saw that I had barely reacted to her telling, she continued.
*The nightmare began once we were outside of the room. It was a maze and we had no clue how to advance, any plans we made have made had no more use once we were confronted with the truth of the mission. We thought about following whatever device that had brought the tray to the room, for it was carried there somehow, there was nothing to be seen though, we later deduced that the alarm had made the devide either hide or self destruct. Clock was ticking and we needed to get out of there. We did not know if there was going to be any punishment for you for trying to escape, if someone or something would come out of the blue to either return you to your room or kill you on the spot.*
I had started sweating, each pearl made the fog in my mind diminish.
*I cant really tell how much time we spent wandering through the maze... but every second that passed made our anxiety grow as we could not fathom what would happen next. We were able to find what seemed the pathway to the exit, dont ask me how we did it, after so much wandering my memories also distort and deform at some point*
I could remember monotony, endless corridors, one corner after the other we looked around in search of any clue that could lead us to the exit...
*We were on our way as we heard the shrieking sound of the alarm and the guardian of the maze*
I had trouble swallowing as my memory was kind enough to make me remember just a bit of that scene.
*A mechanic thresher maw was at the end of the corridor quickly making its way towards us...*

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...

Learning from the learned

Dont look back under any circumstance, they say.
There is a saying: do not look back even to catch your breath.
But sometimes it is good to look back, to see how things were before, how you were before.
Taking into account your past is sure something helpful when confronting the present and the future, and that is something we forget one too many times.
When I look back, I see many pages full of words, I see hidden meanings, I see a lot of books that I read and enjoyed, I see what I did right, what I did wrong.
I look back, at the footsteps behind my back, and I see how much I have learned, but that does not blurr my vision for the future, for I know there is still a lot to learn.
Being eager to learn not only means investing time and energy into learning something in the present, but learning from the past, dont forget that.

Doing wrong, being wrong

It is ironic how I expected others to do things for me I was not prepared to do for them.
Many times had I wondered why no one cared, why no one left any sort of message, and then I realised that the problem was also embedded within me. I was not giving them what I asked them to do for mw, so how could I sincerely expect them to do anything?
I was lucky I came to that realization before it was too late.
It was thanks to a little project I had started and nobody except me knew about.
But that little project helped me see the hipocrisy of my ways.
Now I am willing to give to others what I would like to receive and i really believe that someday it might pay off and I will be able to see the results of my actions.

PS: any comment about this blog, wether good or bad, would mean the world to me, consider leaving one before closing this entry. Thank you for reading.

Art as in Artist

Nothing is as easy as it looks...

Walking is something you learned, you dont remember, but you had a tough time.

Speaking, writting, running, reading, all that took so much effort even though you can not remember.

And keeping a diary is a difficult task, too.

Seating yourself in front of the white page, facing the challenge that is filling it with ink every single night telling an imaginary reader what you might have accomplished that day and what your dreams and hopes for the future are.

Noone besides you is going to read it, but despite that you put so much effort into elaborating something that is not only appealing to the eye, but also to the mind.

You, who keeps a diary, are challenging yourself to do something just for the fun of it, you are incredible.

You are creating something for the sake or art, and art will repay you sooner or later.

Keep that in mind