luni, 25 august 2008
Aimlessly rambling down the streets
Is this a mental disease, some sort of disturbing, or just... pure addiction? Put any of my clothes on, run to the door and get out fast. Everyday faster, everyday deeper. It's like some strange kind of paranoia is following my every move. But as soon as I put my old baskets on the dirty pavement it's gone. I'm alive.
I never walk normally. Everytime faster than the others. I can't stand somebody else near me. I'm running wild. Running to get rid of my pure hated old self. The wind is blowing my hair as I'm slipping near the corner of an old building. It's getting colder but I can't stop. I'm addicted. Addicted to walking.
I love empty streets by night. The shadow is my place to hide. I don't hate people, I'm just afraid of them. But most of all I'm afraid of the monster living inside my bones. One horrible face hides beneath my skin. Everybody has it but they're not so aware of the wrath living inside them. I'm scarred. Can I leave this beast behind by running astray? I've never felt so mislplaced. I'm sick of the feeling I've been living all my faded life between the gates of a huge airport. I can realize now. It's not a penitentiary, it's a lost airport. No planes landing or taking off. Just me with my ghosts. There' s no place I can call home. I'm locked inside a cage full of dismay. I feel wretched, on the loose, harrowed but still thrilled. It may be because of pain... I'm a cocktail of feelings and personalities.
I see the monster drifting appart just for several seconds. It's smirking. I'm weak. I can't fight this beast. I can't fight myself. The evil was done so I'll always have my evil part. Just like the others. I can't get out . I'm trying to fix what the hell's going on but the more I'm trying the more the others are running away from me. There are so many more times I endured their stern prejudices and critics. Their deafening world is not what I want. It's gruelling to be torn apart out of their existance, in this huge airport. But I fast simmer down. They want only undemanding benefits. Nobody wants to suffer, nobody wants to know what pain means. That seems jockey to me. I had to fight hard for any glow of light. I had to try hard for any piece of good but I always crawled away from that because I couldn't resist feeling OK. I couldn't resist without pain.
I don't remember the last time I've been really happy. I've always associated happiness with childhood. Only that period of time can gain a genuine happiness unspoiled by worries and dirty things. It may be because of innocence... But what can you do when all this ravenous world is stealing yourself and collapsing your innocence behind the wall? I tried so hard to get it back, my nails were bleeding of so much scratching against the separation wall that was built between myself and the others. I can't say when that happened but I'm sure I built it after they stole the best of me.
Today is dark and windy. I'm running aimlessly down the streets. Today is Dream Theater's "Lifting shadows off a dream once broken". Today is pain.
Montparnasse cemetery. Paris. My spiritual Masters. Burried. This world but neither this world. I want... something else.
"Now the days are dark and the nights are cold
People acting like they lost their souls
Everywhere I go I see another person like me
Trying to make it all feel like home"