Broken Pieces.
My dreams are dark, bad. They don’t give me a chance to rest. They’re filled with unexplainable madness, colored in strange shades I can no longer recognize. They don’t belong to me anymore; they belong to someone else, someone I can’t comprehend or name. Someone else is dreaming inside my mind, dreams I’m unable to understand but only to fear. Sometimes, I see her in my dreams, and we make love as we used to, and that love gives me pleasure right before the endless fall into the darkness of my slipping mind. Betrayal. In my dreams, I feel a slow, gnawing pain that doesn’t give my mind a minute of rest.
And then I awake without knowing that I’m awake. I force myself into reality that keeps rejecting me, pushing me back into the comfort of my imagination. I force myself to keep moving on, but to where I don’t know any longer. There are no signposts nor Google maps. There’s nothing to identify my position or ground myself into something meaningful that I desperately need.
Sometimes loneliness can be too much. Sometimes silence can be deafening. We are all broken into so many pieces. A broken piece here and a broken piece there. She has some pieces of my brokenness. I still have hers. Please take them away from me and give me back mine. But no... We’re playing with those pieces carelessly, thinking of nothing while love slips through our fingers like sand. Why didn’t we make love more often? Why didn’t we beautify each other with our love? Why didn’t we believe in each other? Why all this insanity in the middle of the rainy night when everything good in us suddenly became forgotten by the stupidity of our wrong choices? Who to blame?
And then we’re alone among the crowd screaming for help in a language everyone refuses to understand. Then we’re trapped inside a strange, unfamiliar dream of someone else’s insane mind. Can you get out of this trap? Because I can’t. I’m stuck.
Life became agonizing so suddenly that strange thoughts began to surface. No help is needed. Nothing is able to cure my insanity, the insanity of feeling things so sharply that the imagery of those things cuts my soul and heart into pieces while my pain cries hidden deeply inside my dry eyes. Funny... We’re so embarrassed to express our feelings to each other that we forgot how to feel, and therefore we’re slowly going crazy inside the fake world we created for ourselves.
Nothing is here but rain again in the middle of the night. Nothing inside but internal organs that somehow keep moving me through my existence. The heart keeps pumping blood inside my chest. My body always rebels against my mind. I’m just exhausted in the middle, in between this internal fight I can’t wait to be done with. There’s no satisfaction in things. There’s only pain in people. My dream is to fall asleep in the cradle of her soft hands, feeling her warm breath and hearing her loving whispers. Is it too much to ask? To find some peace inside her madness, which is so similar to mine. Go mad together because when you’re going mad all by yourself, it’s quite tedious, don’t you think?
The more I understand, the more this understanding goes against me. I’m coming to the end without knowing if this end is the end of me or the new beginning of somebody else. I’m getting quite old. Life is strange with its merciless time that works unstoppably against us. And what is time but an illusion of life while death is the reality of nonexistence.