Somethings are for sharing
”Sometimes it feels too much to be alive.”
Every time I get that feeling, I return to this road, to that bridge.
In the winter, it’s nice to go into the blue dusk. The air is somehow easier to breath, you don’t have to care about other people; it’s just you and your own thoughts.
Alone in the world.
In a place like this one’s mind gets to rest and thoughts drift in and out as they will. You can grab the fascinating ones, but you don’t have to.
One can be, without being.
You can truly be yourself; don’t have to explain why you do what you do. No one is there to analyze you mind; no one criticizes.
No one cares.
What is a human opinion for a tree in a forest? What is it for the water in the river? Or the snow on the ground? The clouds or stars in the sky? What is the opinion of others for me?
When you’re alone in here, you won’t think like a human being; you turn into part of the nature. Something greater. I will become a part of this world and feel welcome.
I won’t certainly learn the reason of life, but I return home always a little bit more complete.
*
I stood upon a high hill, waiting for my love to return. I saw a great wall of cloud climbed from the south; it swooped over my fields and the wind was chill. He’s on his way, it whispered.
The seagulls screamed and I went to the end of the cliff. There was his vessel; her sails tattered and dirty. It would be my chore for the winter. I watched them dock into the harbour and saw him start his way back home. I went to the path to wait for him. He saw me from far away and quickened his pace; his feet light like a young boy’s.
He stood before me, tall and wide, and I took his hand.
“Welcome home.”
*
I look up at the sunny sky and feel calm. I look at the moving water below and feel restless. I enjoy these feelings, I revel in them. I think.
I brush away the hair from my face and hear the seagulls scream. The cry strikes a chord of sadness in my mind.
I feel alone. I am alone. I’m not unhappy about it. I enjoy it. I may seem pitiable; it may seem I’m only trying to get sympathy.
I sigh into the wind and close my eyes. The salty breeze calms my soul, raging inside me. The water, vast and boundless, has always called me. Now I don’t want to go ashore.
*
I look up at the round window. The house is large; the attic is three stories up. I look and I see.
There’s a small boy waving at me. He smiles; I see him glimmer and fade.
I call my friends and they look, but won’t see.
This was our secret.
*
I open the tea-box. The smell of vanilla takes me back.
It makes me smile. I remember the fun times we had in school; the long nights we spent together, just talking. All the bad things that might have happened then fade away.
I sit down, the warm cup in my hands and inhale the fragrance. I wish things were still that simple.
*
The first one was written as a school assignment for a comic. The others I have written to calm my spirit or just to vent. The one with the round window is a true story, it happened when I was a little girl. The last one is from tonight.
Notice any similarities?