domingo, 27 de setembro de 2015

How quickly I forget, how long will I rise.

It’s astonishing how things tend to fade away with time, how what we though was the most important thing in our life now seems meaningless. Ties break, values change, smiles waver and memories wash away as messages in the sand.
There was a time when Mondays were my favourite day, struggling a part time job with my studies in order to not starve away my hopes and dreams, going weeks on end with no days off, Mondays were my relief, it was the day that I woke up with the most energy, happier, when I really looked forward to get out of bed.
I still remember my first weekend of freedom after that time, one hell of a drunken night, I still remember my then girlfriend dragging me to her bed and going to the kitchen to make me a cup of tea. I remember waking up to the tea sitting untouched next to the nightstand.
I also remember juggling a lie that was snowballing way over my control, agonizing each day about being discovered, holding the tears inside while that lie was wreaking havoc among my friends, family and love life. I remember crying myself to sleep when I finally decided to let go of the lie, crying in a girls lap while she petted my head after realizing she had been betrayed and destroyed when she put what little trust she had left to give.
I remember a time when I had to travel 6 hours a day to get from my house to my job and back, thinking, while I stared at the road in the sidewalk, how my brain had shutdown, how my body and mind felt like they were going on autopilot. I was watching my life play out like I was sitting in a couch watching me in the television screen, unable to move, unable to feel, unable to speak.
I remember being stuck, not against my will but stuck do to circumstance, in a foreign land, away from family, friends, in a culture that I couldn’t relate in a country scared by war, famine, terror and despair.
During all those times I held dear so many different things. Claiming at each time that what I was missing was what I needed to be happy.
Freedom…
Truth…
Time…
Money…
And now…
Now I sit here, still not satisfied, still not happy.
It’s like an hunger to get more and more, while my body is breaking down and my mind is no longer willing.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not unhappy, I have so many good memories, so many good friends, so many good things in my life that I it should be enough to be satisfied.
But it never is…
My thirst is like a curse, always wanting more, always putting myself in situations that force me to evolve and overcome. Always gathering the wood and the tinder. Always lighting it, staring at the flames while the wood crackles with the fire. Always stepping into the agony of burning flesh, always feeling the hell fire on my skin and falling apart to ashes. Always rising from them in a new form, reborn so to say, drunk by the fleeting high of conquest.
But now my thoughts permeate my confidence, I hear the voice, I see the cracks beneath my skin.

Until when will I rise, until when will this gamble give me what I want, when will I be stepping into that fire for the last time, unable to rise. When will I be just a pile of ashes being blown away by the wind like a memory on a mind, slowly drifting away into that open sea…

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