The night was crawling slowly through the window. The pink colors of sunset were stepping away to make place for the dark-blue of the night. The evening star was out, spreading it's light and announcing the Moon.
She was alone in her room, in the corner. Her knees to her chest, tears running down her cheeks. The syringe was next to her, full, ready to use. Her daily sin. The only way to run away from loneliness, from the pressure everyone around her put on her. The only way to sing in silence.
She was everyone's favorite, daddy's girl, always smiling and sweet, never in trouble. She was trying to keep that farce, to wear that mask, but it was all more than she could bear. She couldn't take it anymore.
Then he came - he understood her, held her when she needed to be held, listened to her, wiped her tears away. She never thought why he always had that long cloak and the hood. She never saw him coming closer, but knew he was always there. He had this smell of tears and unhappiness about him that filled her nostrils every time he was around. He first offered her the syringe, first showed her how to do it.
In time she realized this wasn't the way to run from it all, but it was too late. She trusted him too much, more than she wanted. She let herself be his toy.
The sweet smell of tears surrounded her. She raised her head and saw him standing before her. He knelt and took the syringe.
- Tears again. Let me stop them. - he tried to grab her arm.
- What of this is not the way?
- Then what is it?
- Will you love me?
- Always.
She smiled. Another bitter smile.
- Will you kiss me?
- First let me stop the tears.
She held her hand to him. He put the needle in her vein and bend to her.
- Say goodbye to the world. Death is here and wants to kiss you.
- I want to kiss him back.
A smile. She felt his cold lips on hers, then felt a sweet wave of serenity and warmth enveloping her. She relaxed her body in his embrace. He tossed some hair off her face.
- My heiress of the evening Sings in Silence.
She closed her eyes. Felt fragile like a rose on the snow.
22.10.2008
Replica
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Dance with the Devil
Kneeling before the Devil, they bent their heads down on said the words. The three words that would forever bind the to him.
He opened his eyes for the charade first. Hers were still closed, finding only the wrong things. It was easier for her to find everything that did not work between them than the things that made her smile. It was easier to tell lies, to hide behind them and to believe he is still blind and believes them.
"I can show you I can see through your empty lies. I won't stay long in this world if you go on." he said once. Then she didn't believe him.
She remembered how he held his hand to her asking her to dance. They hadn't danced since they met, so many years ago. He embraced her and they danced. The Devil was smiling beside them
He slipped from her embrace. She raised her head to his face. He look aside, to the Devil. She slowly turned her head in that direction. Her eyes so nothing, she didn't feel him there. But the Devil was there, dancing with them.
- It's time to say goodbye, my love. Now, as we dance with the Devil tonight.
17. - 19.10.2008
Replica
He opened his eyes for the charade first. Hers were still closed, finding only the wrong things. It was easier for her to find everything that did not work between them than the things that made her smile. It was easier to tell lies, to hide behind them and to believe he is still blind and believes them.
"I can show you I can see through your empty lies. I won't stay long in this world if you go on." he said once. Then she didn't believe him.
She remembered how he held his hand to her asking her to dance. They hadn't danced since they met, so many years ago. He embraced her and they danced. The Devil was smiling beside them
He slipped from her embrace. She raised her head to his face. He look aside, to the Devil. She slowly turned her head in that direction. Her eyes so nothing, she didn't feel him there. But the Devil was there, dancing with them.
- It's time to say goodbye, my love. Now, as we dance with the Devil tonight.
17. - 19.10.2008
Replica
Thursday, October 16, 2008
In Black and White
Let’s play a game of chess. Like friends do. You play the black, for I know you like that color. For you it’s the color of death, the color in which our relationship was painted right from the start. I will play white. For I was always the ray of light that tried to turn the darkness into twilight.
I will set the board. King takes here, Queen goes there, the pawns in the front, my defences are built. Let’s start, shall we? You move first.
Slowly, one by one, my pawns fall just like my defences fell so long ago. A few of yours fell too, but very few. I keep going. I move my knights to protect my King, my heart, from you, for I feel you too close. You take them down. As you will take all my rooks and the bishops and finally reach where you were aiming – the King. Go ahead, take it. I give it to you freely.
Now that you got it, what will you do with it? It will not fit your black set, for it is too different. I will not change it’s color, for it’s too stubborn. It will just be there, to protect you and be beautiful by your side.
You tried to fit that piece in, but you couldn’t, so you threw it away. It broke in pieces and by accident I saw it there, lying on the ground and picked the pieces up. I recognized my King and put it back together. I know I will ask you to play a game of chess with me again, so I keep it.
And here we are, playing the same game of chess. You’re aiming for my King. I won’t give up that easy now. My King is fragile than before and defences around him are tougher than before.
Keep your pieces on your black squares and I’ll keep mine on my white ones.
16.10.2008
Replica
I will set the board. King takes here, Queen goes there, the pawns in the front, my defences are built. Let’s start, shall we? You move first.
Slowly, one by one, my pawns fall just like my defences fell so long ago. A few of yours fell too, but very few. I keep going. I move my knights to protect my King, my heart, from you, for I feel you too close. You take them down. As you will take all my rooks and the bishops and finally reach where you were aiming – the King. Go ahead, take it. I give it to you freely.
Now that you got it, what will you do with it? It will not fit your black set, for it is too different. I will not change it’s color, for it’s too stubborn. It will just be there, to protect you and be beautiful by your side.
You tried to fit that piece in, but you couldn’t, so you threw it away. It broke in pieces and by accident I saw it there, lying on the ground and picked the pieces up. I recognized my King and put it back together. I know I will ask you to play a game of chess with me again, so I keep it.
And here we are, playing the same game of chess. You’re aiming for my King. I won’t give up that easy now. My King is fragile than before and defences around him are tougher than before.
Keep your pieces on your black squares and I’ll keep mine on my white ones.
16.10.2008
Replica
Tobacco Road
It was known as the Tobacco Road – the country’s largest tobacco trading company and the fields it owned with the road between the two. Thousands of people were employed by the company – adults, children, elderly – there was enough work for every one.
Dave had been out on the fields picking up the tobacco for almost as long as he could remember. His family was one of the few families that were loyal to the company and never fled it in hard times. The boy used to listen to stories about how his great grandfather first decided to work with the back-then small company. His son, Dave’s grandfather, started working with him at the age of 8 and so it became a tradition.
Secretly, Dave hated the place. He dreamed of what was beyond the wall separating the Road from the world. He was told, or to be exact overheard, rumours that it was all full of colors beyond anyone’s imagination – the sun was yellow, the sky was blue, the grass was green. Dave hated the black and white world he lived in. He dreamt that one day he could wake up before the break of dawn, go outside, lean against the wall and watch the sun rise. See all the color and beauty it held. Admire it. Instead, he would hear the factory roaring, announcing the new day.
Today he was called in the factory. One of the people who was responsible for packaging the cigarettes called sick so someone had to take his place. Dave gladly agreed to, just to see what it’s like to work in a factory.
Very few people could enter it and even fewer could afford to buy cigarettes. Sometimes, if you were very good at your job, you would get a cigarette in the break. But just sometimes.
Dave wanted to try one, inhale that pure poison, taste it, cough. He secretly took on of the cigarettes in the box before him and walked out for his lunch break. It was cold outside, mostly white today, since frost had fallen today morning. He took out a match from his pocket and lit it to the hard wall surrounding the Tobacco Road. He leaned on the wall and looked up to the greyish sky – no clouds today, no sun.
He could hear the boys on the other side of the Road singing happy songs. He called them the lucky boys. They were born in a world of color, a world that seemed so far away from Dave’s. He wanted to leave something behind, something that would be remembered. Something to put all his soul in, but he didn’t know what. Many times he thought of scratching a message on the wall, but he didn’t know what to write.
He looked up in the sky again, smoking the cigarette. Closed his eyes, listening to the song from the lucky boys. Opened them when the song finished and saw something red-greenish in the sky. Could be in this world of black and white a butterfly had come?
The kite was sawing the skies, followed by the shouts from the lucky boys.
Dave went home that day and asked his father.
- I saw this kite today. It was colourful. Can you catch it for me, father?
He didn’t answer. Dave looked in his eyes.
- It is but a world away, my son. We can not have color here. And we have just the smell of tobacco. Do you know what is said beyond the wall? ‘People on Tobacco Road can look, but they can’t play.’ You will never be on the other side of the wall, my son.
That day Dave decided what he would scratch on the wall, what he will leave behind.
He woke up the next morning, went to the factory, took another cigarette and went to smoke it by the wall. He took out his knife and scratched in the wood.
* * *
The factory was long but closed. Some man from beyond the sea bought the Tobacco Road and shut it down soon after, leaving so many people with no work. Dave watched from a hill nearby how machines came in and tore the factory down. The smell of tobacco was so strong now. He was surrounded by boys, telling him to fly the kite this was and that way.
Memories flooded his mind. He remembered his childhood, the black and white childhood he had. He remembered that first time he was called in the factory to work, the first cigarette, the lucky boys singing from the other side of the wall and the kite in the sky. He remembered what he wrote the next day on the wall and smiled.
* * *
Down the hill, the people were tearing down the wall. Many of the planks were scratched with meaningless or misspelled words, signs or names. But there was one that had just one sentence on it. The guy read. He looked up to the sky and saw a kite. Smiled
“If it takes me forever, one day I will have that kite.”
16.10.2008
Replica
Dave had been out on the fields picking up the tobacco for almost as long as he could remember. His family was one of the few families that were loyal to the company and never fled it in hard times. The boy used to listen to stories about how his great grandfather first decided to work with the back-then small company. His son, Dave’s grandfather, started working with him at the age of 8 and so it became a tradition.
Secretly, Dave hated the place. He dreamed of what was beyond the wall separating the Road from the world. He was told, or to be exact overheard, rumours that it was all full of colors beyond anyone’s imagination – the sun was yellow, the sky was blue, the grass was green. Dave hated the black and white world he lived in. He dreamt that one day he could wake up before the break of dawn, go outside, lean against the wall and watch the sun rise. See all the color and beauty it held. Admire it. Instead, he would hear the factory roaring, announcing the new day.
Today he was called in the factory. One of the people who was responsible for packaging the cigarettes called sick so someone had to take his place. Dave gladly agreed to, just to see what it’s like to work in a factory.
Very few people could enter it and even fewer could afford to buy cigarettes. Sometimes, if you were very good at your job, you would get a cigarette in the break. But just sometimes.
Dave wanted to try one, inhale that pure poison, taste it, cough. He secretly took on of the cigarettes in the box before him and walked out for his lunch break. It was cold outside, mostly white today, since frost had fallen today morning. He took out a match from his pocket and lit it to the hard wall surrounding the Tobacco Road. He leaned on the wall and looked up to the greyish sky – no clouds today, no sun.
He could hear the boys on the other side of the Road singing happy songs. He called them the lucky boys. They were born in a world of color, a world that seemed so far away from Dave’s. He wanted to leave something behind, something that would be remembered. Something to put all his soul in, but he didn’t know what. Many times he thought of scratching a message on the wall, but he didn’t know what to write.
He looked up in the sky again, smoking the cigarette. Closed his eyes, listening to the song from the lucky boys. Opened them when the song finished and saw something red-greenish in the sky. Could be in this world of black and white a butterfly had come?
The kite was sawing the skies, followed by the shouts from the lucky boys.
Dave went home that day and asked his father.
- I saw this kite today. It was colourful. Can you catch it for me, father?
He didn’t answer. Dave looked in his eyes.
- It is but a world away, my son. We can not have color here. And we have just the smell of tobacco. Do you know what is said beyond the wall? ‘People on Tobacco Road can look, but they can’t play.’ You will never be on the other side of the wall, my son.
That day Dave decided what he would scratch on the wall, what he will leave behind.
He woke up the next morning, went to the factory, took another cigarette and went to smoke it by the wall. He took out his knife and scratched in the wood.
* * *
The factory was long but closed. Some man from beyond the sea bought the Tobacco Road and shut it down soon after, leaving so many people with no work. Dave watched from a hill nearby how machines came in and tore the factory down. The smell of tobacco was so strong now. He was surrounded by boys, telling him to fly the kite this was and that way.
Memories flooded his mind. He remembered his childhood, the black and white childhood he had. He remembered that first time he was called in the factory to work, the first cigarette, the lucky boys singing from the other side of the wall and the kite in the sky. He remembered what he wrote the next day on the wall and smiled.
* * *
Down the hill, the people were tearing down the wall. Many of the planks were scratched with meaningless or misspelled words, signs or names. But there was one that had just one sentence on it. The guy read. He looked up to the sky and saw a kite. Smiled
“If it takes me forever, one day I will have that kite.”
16.10.2008
Replica
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
King of Fools
Here we are again, right where we started. Same place, same time, even our clothes are the same. We sit at the opposite ends of the same table, drinking the same drinks we did then, but we look at each other differently. It’s been a while, what changed?
Remember our first talk? I told you I don’t feel confident to give this a go because I wasn’t what you needed. I was worried you fell for the peel and you wouldn’t like the inside at all. You told me it’s okay and kissed me. I still feel the same way, but this time you won’t kiss my worries away. I’m sorry I cannot ignore how I feel and be what you want me to be. I’m sorry for all the arguments we had in the past.
I’m sorry for some of the things I said to you, I’m sorry for all the lies you fed me. Seems that what I feel is the only truth and so I try to get by on my naïve hope that all will be okay. I don’t want a fairytale gone bad.
But what do you want? I’ve been told what I give out will be what I’ll receive, then why are you so cold when I touch you? You told me to leave my childish naivety behind and grow up, but you never showed me how. Tell me, if I still believe that we can be, will you crucify me for it?
Are you strong enough to hold us up if my naivety is what’s dragging us so close to shattering the frail connection between us? Would you resurrect what we had to do it? Would you start all over again and this time build us so that we could withstand everything? If I told you I am the queen of fools, would you wear the crown and be my king of fools?
Be naïve with me. Believe that we can be. Crucify yourself with me. Wear the crown. Be the king of fools.
14.10.2008
Replica
Remember our first talk? I told you I don’t feel confident to give this a go because I wasn’t what you needed. I was worried you fell for the peel and you wouldn’t like the inside at all. You told me it’s okay and kissed me. I still feel the same way, but this time you won’t kiss my worries away. I’m sorry I cannot ignore how I feel and be what you want me to be. I’m sorry for all the arguments we had in the past.
I’m sorry for some of the things I said to you, I’m sorry for all the lies you fed me. Seems that what I feel is the only truth and so I try to get by on my naïve hope that all will be okay. I don’t want a fairytale gone bad.
But what do you want? I’ve been told what I give out will be what I’ll receive, then why are you so cold when I touch you? You told me to leave my childish naivety behind and grow up, but you never showed me how. Tell me, if I still believe that we can be, will you crucify me for it?
Are you strong enough to hold us up if my naivety is what’s dragging us so close to shattering the frail connection between us? Would you resurrect what we had to do it? Would you start all over again and this time build us so that we could withstand everything? If I told you I am the queen of fools, would you wear the crown and be my king of fools?
Be naïve with me. Believe that we can be. Crucify yourself with me. Wear the crown. Be the king of fools.
14.10.2008
Replica
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
The Glass Wall
You look at me. You smile.
I'm lost in your eyes. I smile.
I hold out my hand to touch you, I can see, a little more. I feel the warmth of your skin and I close my eyes. My hand touches something cold and smooth, it is not your skin.
The glass wall.
I step back, with tears in my eyes. It is there again, why?
I see you, so close to me, and I cannot touch you.
Once upon a time you entered my mind. Once upon a time I entered your mind. I took all my masks off for you and I was what I never was with no one else. But not you. Slowly you were building the glass wall, building it around me. Building it with smiles and you wrote "I love you" on it.
Sometimes I find the strength to shatter the wall, I think it's just glass and it will fall under my blow and shatter. Every time all I can do is to crack it. And every time you manage to change the glass with a new, thicker one.
One day I will stop wanting to shatter the glass. One day I will stop looking back, to the glass wall, to you. One day...
Until then I will write with my tears "I love you" and "Don't walk away" and I will fall on my knees. I will show myself weak, I will lower myself. And you will keep watching me from the other side of the glass and you will laugh.
07.10.2008
Replica
I'm lost in your eyes. I smile.
I hold out my hand to touch you, I can see, a little more. I feel the warmth of your skin and I close my eyes. My hand touches something cold and smooth, it is not your skin.
The glass wall.
I step back, with tears in my eyes. It is there again, why?
I see you, so close to me, and I cannot touch you.
Once upon a time you entered my mind. Once upon a time I entered your mind. I took all my masks off for you and I was what I never was with no one else. But not you. Slowly you were building the glass wall, building it around me. Building it with smiles and you wrote "I love you" on it.
Sometimes I find the strength to shatter the wall, I think it's just glass and it will fall under my blow and shatter. Every time all I can do is to crack it. And every time you manage to change the glass with a new, thicker one.
One day I will stop wanting to shatter the glass. One day I will stop looking back, to the glass wall, to you. One day...
Until then I will write with my tears "I love you" and "Don't walk away" and I will fall on my knees. I will show myself weak, I will lower myself. And you will keep watching me from the other side of the glass and you will laugh.
07.10.2008
Replica
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