Sometimes I think that the greatest perversion is hope. The fact that it dies last. And it eats at your heart in the meantime, like a slow serpent carving channels through the soft flesh.
I have had my catharsis a while ago and it took me almost two years to get it. It meant the death of hope. Isn't it ironic? Deliverance came in the form of death. I cut out a part of me and killed it. In front of my eyes. I sighed in pain with its passing, but it set me free. From the bonds of slavery. And after rain comes the rainbow and the promise of another tomorrow.
And tomorrow never dies, or so the song goes. And with my tomorrow, today came to bathe in my emotions and swim within my body. "I found romance on your menu" it declared and, with an unsympathetic smile, proceeded to feast upon my dreams. "I know no yesterday, no tomorrow, no sorrow" it said beween mouthfulls. I watched in fascination as little pieces of me disappeared in it. It had blue eyes.
If time is but a gaping black hole where we lose ourselves, can space come to the rescue? Can there be a place where you exhale, where the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true? Where the sky is blue and the grass is green and drops of dew kiss you good morning. I know this place exists, I have seen it in a dream. A dream with teeth marks on it, granted, but still mine. Alive and kicking.
If happy little blue birds fly
Across the rainbow,
Why, oh why, can't I?
Unde-s distraiele, unde-s cafelele?
2 months ago
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