Little pieces

24. srpna 2016 v 0:55 | Bibi
Procházela jsem staré zápisky ze školy a různé papíry, které jsem našla válet se kolem a byla jsem celkem příjemně překvapena. Mé staré já, co se neustále utápělo v depresivních náladách a úzkostech, napsalo pár celkem zajímavých (pro mě) kousků. Stoprocentně bych jich vyhrabala víc, ale je půlnoc, tak jich sem hodím jen pár. Jsou to zase jen takový výlevy nálad. Chci si to tady tak nějak uložit a vlastně mi vůbec nezáleží na tom, jestli to někdo bude číst.



Tohle jsem napsala v autobuse cestou domů z londýna:

I was in the middle of doing something probably not very important because I can't remember what it was anymore, when the power went out. What I remember was a sudden terrifying flick of the kitchen lights and then only darkness. I waited. And waited, hoping they would turn in back on soon. I was never afraid of dark and basically anything. You could say I was a pretty laid-back person. But something about this storm and this particular power-less evening made me uncertain. I didn't "panic" nor was I scared. But somehow, the only thing I could think about were the sounds. I sat down, not bothering to light a candle. And I listened. To everything.
The first sound I noticed was the thundering outside. And the sound of heavy raindrops falling onto the roof of my modest house. It sounded like a battlefield. Like the clouds were fighting for dominance over that night's sky and the rain was tears of theirs, washing away the sorrow of the previous day. After a while, the storm became a background sound to me.
My ears adjusted a bit and I heard other sounds, even stranger to me. I heard myself. My breath. My rapid heartbeat. My thoughts. I swear I heard it when I got goosebumps from a sudden thunder. That was when I got a bit nervous. And I heard that, too. My shaking hands, my eyes when they travelled through the dark interior of my kitchen, which is what I registered next.
My house was giving out sounds of despiration and helplessness. It was groaning, crying, dying. I knew the building was pretty old but until that night, I didn't notice any creaking, any heavy sinking of the floors. But that night, I heard it all. Along with the storm and the undeniable fact that I was alive, these sounds followed me to bed and quite easily preventedd me from falling asleep.
As I said, the first thing I noticed was the storm but it by far wasn't the loudest of those noices. That place was taken by quiet. Empty. Silence. Nothing. And this nothing was slowly starting to crawl to me from the shadows. Silence is sneaky. Esspesialy this kind of silence. It indicates solitude and it reminded me of things I didn't want to be reminded. Of things I ran away from for no proper reason and it reminded me of the fact that this was never going to be different. Nothing changes. Everything stays still.
After some time, even the storm outside went calm and I remained in my bed, not moving an inch. Only the first ray of sunshine that lit onto my face calmed down the storm in my own head and brought me back to motion.

--

"Sometimes people miss things they never had," said a little standing in a doorway, looking down on her own dolls. "I know you miss mom. Even though you've never seen her." She said it with such despair because she thought that maybe, if nobody else ever listened, her dolls would bring some kind of comfort to her. "You are not going to answer, are you?" she whispered, waiting. And silence dropped down on her heart and burned a mark there that she's never going to get rid of.
Maybe se wasn't at all a little girl talking to her dolls. "As I thought so," was heard in the soundless room. And the girl wasn't stupid. It was a misunderstanding what made her forget every aspect of being a child. Of being innocent. She didn't know that at the time an dit probably hurt like nothing else in life. The thoughts that were running through her mind were all about one thing.
"I'm going crazy."

--

That sound of things
heard everywhere
but now its silent
a coat to wear

its time to make a move
its time to stay in line
just take a step back
and youll be fine

the darkest smirk
not being here
because even that
is a thing to feel

"revolution is not over yet!" the shout
"its all over for me," i said
"since every corner throughout,
is covered in darkness"

--

Go away, I beg you. Day by day, I slip lower any my defences get waeker. I try to climb back to safety but the walls of my prison are too wet and I spil lower, my guards down. I do not fight it. I stop moving and protesting but I do not give in. I wait. You wait, too. You need me to take action. To attack. Because when I'm running in my head, I run for life. Until I'm exhausted to death. And I become a walking dead body. But I won't run. I won't attack either. Not this time. I feel strong. The longer I'm waiting, the stronger I get. With every my breath, I glow brighter and you are slowly fading in the light. I think you feel defeated but I see a wicked smirk on your faceless, emotionless lips. I wonder how you manage to smile like that? You don't feel, you don't know. You just want and need and you take. So how is that you're smirking at me? Right now, while fading in the light of my happiness. At that moment, I was confused and I didn't understand. But now, trying to climb the the wet walls again, I do.

--

And that's all for today folks!:D Hope I didn't bring you sadness...if I did...oh, well:D
 

2 lidé ohodnotili tento článek.

Nový komentář

Přihlásit se
  Ještě nemáte vlastní web? Můžete si jej zdarma založit na Blog.cz.
 

Aktuální články

Reklama