|"Tonight, you shall sleep, and you will dream of a world far better than this one; a world where there is no evil, no demons."|
I apologize for taking so long to write back to you.. The excitement that I feel when I see that you have written is still a joy in every particle of my soul.
Do you know that somehow i sensed that you had written me on the letter before. I wondered what you were doing, and logged in to lettrs for the first time in a long time. I went straight to your page to see if you had written something new. Then a few hours later i got a notice that you had written me. You asked if i wanted to hear about your life, your problems and your strangeness. You wanted to lean on my shoulder and cry. The answer to everything is YES YES YES. I don't know how or why i found you. Maybe in ...
Is there a way out of this mind?
Does anyone hear me for god sake?
Echoes of my soul kept coming back in headaches. Would it get any better? Would it be a soother, writing this letter? Futile sublimation... I can eat all my defenses, I'll only vomit ghosts of depression.. They'll always lurk around, I know.. Wrenching a piece of light, making space for some darkness to grow. And the hole would only get wider, as I forget that I am my own voider. Can someone shut up this silence? I am worn and stale, I am an empty malevolence.
And dear ghost, can you eat some of my flesh along with my soul? No mirror, no scale could bide me at all. I am the self of a mauled unconscious.. And the malady of...
It's my first love letter, and I am already hating it. I am already damning my mind for daring to type this strain of shit. I wanted to let go, to erase every letter, I have done it three times or so... I am scared, I am horrified up to the profoundest hole in my body, the anguish is eating on my flesh making rooms for other holes, other testimonies to my monody. Does it even ring right the "I love you" in my mind? Does it make sense to your scars I, yore, was unable to upbind? Every step is raw, every pitch is dark, every move is a new chance to break down, a keen stake in the heart of any vow. And, yet, I am still walking, defying my fickleness, defying your quietness and dar...
It felt strange... Inner peace. For a second, it transcended me subtly, with ease. As if I never has been a wreck before, as if I never has known wars in my deepest core. For a second, and it never lasted more, it filled some of my dark hole, I never felt more alleviated or more nigh from being whole. It felt like an autumn breeze.. Fresh, a little damp, I could swear I smelled mint, a note of ...daffodil? Yes, I think it is. But, it ain't autumn, nor even spring. In my interior, was always winter in a way it, still, freezes my ink. I was afraid if I blink it would go away, I clung but in my mind every part in me wanted to sway. And it never lasted more... I knew it and the second it aborte...
Scary, isn't it? The bubbles, the fireworks, the shiny little smiles that don't fit. I know your scare is too shattering that you need to vomit.
Hold on, take a breath, does it go away?
It is still scary, right? The exit of your comfort zone, the unknown, the uncertainties' fight.
But stand still, take a deep breath, you are moveless anyway.
Tell me, how do you feel, actually? The ache is nibbling your belly, devouring every solace, delicately.
And you can screw every psychotherapy you have learned, this scare is a freaking fiend, the ache inveigh so plainly that it can't be interned.
Step back, and tell me... What would you chose? Would you succumb to your scare, stand there shakin...
It felt surreal... The pain. It stroke, again, with no prefaces, overwhelming my hole and brain. I have learned to live with that hole, now. I even made my demons dance in its bottom while it snows. And I danced there, sometimes... I buried all feelings, burned my regimes in rimes.
Look at you! A hole full of pain, a heartless brain... What did I become? An empty shadow that has already taken me as home...
And it disfigured it all.. strength, peace are easily rotten windfalls. My words, my proses... oh Lord, I despise the superficiality, the brutality of how they sound. I lost my writer's soul somewhere between frivolous desires and the humdrum around. So what did I become? A cage of bon...
I wish I would say you are the one. I wish I'd say I felt those damn butterflies, everyone is talking about, the very time I saw your eyes.. so brown. I wish I knew how to say beautiful words... Those that make one's heart bounce around rococo chords. I wish I was one of those girls, whose hormones would make them ecstatic after billions of twirls. I wish I came straight back to my agenda to write about how stunning your eyes are, or how much I am dying to meet you again, on a Parisian Bistro or an Italian bar. To write about love as the simplest, prettiest feeling around, as it was so easy to catch, the clearest bound.
I am sorry, I am not and I don't know how this may sound, but, I am m...
We want everything, don't we? Beauty, Life, the eternity in being free. We want time to, sometimes, stop… To wander in each flower's scent, to get lost in every single map, in every city's enchanting trap.
We want love as it comes, in its most complicated ways, and yet, when it all breaks, we masochistically want the bittersweet that stays. We want to breathe youth in every scenery we catch, in every museum, in every canvas Van Gogh had touched. And we want to speak in books, to walk between two dreams.. We want a miracle no matter how it looks, every chance no matter how slim.
What about wars? Don't we want to shut it down? To kill it, to dissolve it from the tiniest hearts, the smallest...
It didn't change much, you know... Same days, same numbers, same faces. You come and go unnoticed except of poor words you throw, futile traces. Same smile carved with an emotional anesthesia, same lachrymose eyes lost in a sort of amnesia. It didn't change a lot... The same mornings, same tasteless breakfasts, the very same sunrise but you forgot. Don't you see? Your numbness has taken over each one of your senses.. So, who are you? What can you be? Where is that empathy you have always pretended to keep? Is it neutralized in that cup of darkness you now sip? Where is your light? I can only feel the hole it left inside.. It didn't change at all, you know... The same voices, the same absurd...
I have always shuted your voice, ignored your wishes, muted your beats' noise.
Tonight, you're free... Tonight, I will slight my mind and choose your sins. Tonight you will beat and will listen.
Don't fail me.
Some nights' remnants, when I am still feeling my black coffee's bitterness... Some thoughts' residues, killing my mind bit by bit, residing restless. What does it feel to feel again? .. I ask myself... What does it do to wake up, everyday in refrain? Does it soil your soul, does it stain your brain? I hate to know that it mills my pages' pureness, my inks' elegance.. I would hate to know that it is killing the writer in my guts.
And I ask again.. Who am I? Words don't define me anymore, I have lost this right, evermore. So who the hell am I? Am I lost in my hollow core?
I close my eyes, I wanted to hear my heartbeats, my breaths, anything… But, dear Sylvia, I think I am dead. I think I a...
Once upon a tear, your tiny face was stripped. It burnt your skin, your jowls were ripped… But you didn't feel a thing, didn't you? Your numbness shut down every pain that grew. The ice within had frozen every hope and every sun you drew…
And deep inside, darkness found its peace. Arising unreserved and whole, it sneaked in with ease.. You almost believed you were a wicked witch or a cursed rogue, a forgotten prince who'd always remain a putrid frog. You'll avoid mirrors as long as you feel like the ugliest person in the kingdom, you'll maul the light and manacle your freedom.
Once Upon A reality, the struggle began.. Torn between this temporary death and evils' voices you couldn...
Dear old picture,
I stumbled upon you today, and I wish I didn't. Floods of mingled feelings jostled into every corner of my chair.. well.. bones. Love and hate as the most paradoxically combined feelings, nostalgia hidden by an envious denial, then comes pain dragging along the darkness of its ultimate viol.
I look at you, and I fall in love with your light.. And I wish it was mine now, I wish I could suck it to patch my blights. I wish I could use it to dust my nights. But it's not mine… not anymore, or at least, not tonight.
Your smile is so beaming, you know? And your cheeks, oh look at your red cheeks.. They almost glow.
Why on earth can't I smile like this now? How come that every ...
I can count my ribs under my breast..
One, is for the number of years I've mauled my brain, mind and soul, for going, altogether, insane. For quelling every beauty in this serried prison of blackened, stressful chains. Is for every ruthless demon that transcended my chest.
Two, is for the decades I've spent afraid of stepping outside of my comfort zone.. For every dream I've dreamt and every reverie that's gone.
Is for every lie, every inequity and every anger unexpressed.
Three, is actually the number of laughs I've laughed these past weeks and maybe even less. It is, multiplied by 10, for the tears I've shed alone, prideless.
Is for every smile I have sacked as an unwelcome guest .
_ _ _ _ A somehow part II..
It's like I knew something would happen to you, little child.
They thought they shut you down, little they knew, the monsters, the feticide.
No, sweet child, you are not dead, you'll rise from the ashes they spread. You'll live in some hearts, you'll live in some writings, even if they're unread.
They burnt you alive… shameless fiends, dreadful nonhumans, loth gender.. and no word of disgust would suffice. They burnt your smile, your cute bib, they crushed your mom's heart between her ribs. They danced around your fire with no compunctions. But don't you worry, God waits but does not forget about the sanctions.
I am s...
There are some nights when I still see you little child. Despite the cold, the dark and the woe lurking in my abide. There are some times when the bitterness of my black coffee sends me straight to you.. How have you been? .. Silly me, I shouldn't ask you for answers I already know. What have you seen? Did you eat, not so long ago?
There are some moments when I crave giving up.. Can you tell me how… How do you stand a prideful victor at the edge of the crackup? How can your little face spits at the face of horror with a smile? How can you be so strong while so infantile?
Teach me, little child because I want to empty my stomach so I can fill you, I want to laugh at hunger the same way you...
And then I realized I just fell of hell.
There were no skies.. Seven nils, maybe eight,I couldn't tell.
It was painless, you know... No fright, no truculence. No light, but a hunting numbness, a mesmerizing darkness.
But, don't they say, it's hot out there? So why am I freezing, feeling a damn cold I couldn't bear?
Don't they say, when we die, angels sing and souls go uphill?
So, why am I falling still?
They say we are likely more nostalgic when we are sad.. But did they ever miss someone so bad? Did they ever know the most frustrating feeling of loss.. the most tearing sensation you can come across.. when you are at your happiest moment and, yet, there's that huge hole you can't fill, that aching twinge you can't kill. When your most satisfying, amazing experiences can't be whole without that one person you're craving to call.
6 years ago will always feel like yesterday... My grandpa, my person.
Do you smell it? The rotten odor from the inside? The vile scent of burn that reside? Do you feel this heavy frozen breath of suicide? Do you stink soreness you can't hide?
Vomit the pain, wet the words stuck in your chest before you become insane. Or, is it too late, are you already slain? Are you dead... again?
God, am I that sinful, am I that depraved? Am I too lost to be saved? God, I know you're lenient, do show the light to a stray servient.
Today, standing at the edge of despair, wearing pieces of nightmares and morsels of scare... Tell me, would there be more to bear? So, tell me, do you feel, do you smell the vair?
I have banged every wall, I have been everywhere I've never wanted to be at all.
I've witnessed the deepest hatred feels and the most superficial hypocrisy skills.
I have been there when no one was, I was prowling alone where darkness stood so close.
There's no escape to such places, when you're a convict, trapped between two faces.
When you have to smile with one, the other's bloody tears would run.
And I have used every smile I know. Believe me, I have forced joy, pretended to embrace both sunshine and snow.
But I think I've embraced it too much that I got burnt and frozen in the process, and even that big lie couldn't fill the recess.
Actually, they're more like holes, percolating ...
If you ever come across this letter, I want you to know that everything I'd say is said out of love. A huge, gargantuan amount of love.
Please don't mind the blurred words, I couldn't detain my tears. I thought, it's okay to set them free along with every crannied morsel I hold in my chest... But words can be mulish, daddy, they can disobey their creator because freedom can be scary. Once they are out, they can never go back in again. Once they're free, they can never hide in that dark, unerring corner again. But I'm trying... struggling to slight that scare, to omit the roistering voice of silence's surety.
Papa, you should know that you're every fairness and every ...
Don't tremble, don't you quiver, I now see you more appealing than ever. Don't hide your face, let them see your tears, let it be the witness of your breakneck race, let it be your strength and my abiding disgrace.
You are the Goddess I want to deify, you are every courage, every vigor, every defiance I can't reify. You are every woman I long to be, and every woman I will never be. You are the hope living in disbelief, the purity behind the prejudice.. And, I am the hopeless as my words can't do you justice.
You wake up every day and teach me life. You lost your son, your brothers and still, with every hardness, you strive. You've clamored until there was...
shhh... Whisper or they'll hear you. Some thoughts are so loud that it feels like they're wailing, every sin and every virtue. Don't you dare say them loud, swallow, choke with them, don't you dare make a sound. Bit by bit, they'll wilt into a swerved, burbling background. Then, bit by bit, they'll utterly die... forgotten, within the depth of your silent cry. And once again, without your cognition, something slithers away. a tiny piece of your humanity, inside of you, decay. Once again, you become more like them. Just another figure, another sheep in the system... Just an "idem".
To every women,
To every men,
To every wife,
To every oppressed,
To every "unconcerned".
I am a blue Jay in a cage... You can't hear me as I quit singing at my age. I would sit there, shed broad words into a blank page. I would pour in my wrath, stab it with every sprout of rage... But I am afraid, this is my truth. I am a scared bird, a blue ruth. I'm creeped out to the depth of my holes, that you wouldn't feel the drift of my pen's soul..
I see you people longing for freedom, but I, I am a blue jay with no wings at all. Every night, I cut up a little piece, then, maybe, when I'm in pain, I could find a kind of peace.
So, no, I'm not a freed head, as I still hear the stomachs' rumble of children, underfed. I still hear the crying of innocuous little beings, between the sound ...
I said BREATHE, don't you dare succumb to the demons abrading your flesh and its underneath.
Withhold the tears, bite on your lips, don't throw up your fears.
I said breathe... Did you forget how to inhale, how to exhale? Did you become benumbed in this jail? Are you peeled into some bones with no avail?
Breathe, wake up! When did you become blind? when did you, and the world, break up? You need to write to feel that you're, maybe, still alive, that you, maybe didn't lose the fight. And I hope you'd taint in your dullness if you ever forget how to write about anyone but yourself, I hope you'd rot in the poverty of your inside, if you can't remember about the people outside.
Hi. This is me, or, this is how I look. Life has traveled with me through quite many years.. We've known beauty, we've known deceptions, we've known pride, we've known darkness.. It was more about darkness than light. We were, often, slaves, but we loved to think that we were the leaders of our waves. Sometimes we hang on the little things that made us survive… Sometimes, we just waive... Sometimes, there's no sinews to strive.
Look at me. I won't pretend that I love all the imperfections you reflect. Fitfully, I hate it till I found no respect. Then, I'd gather life and lurk, we'd hide in those imperfections' hell. we'd become a sect.
See my grin? I can't even begin to count ...
I pictured myself in a white dress, again. It wasn't pretty or even summery.. It was pale, blank and tonelessly flowery... I was walking round wizened lilies, sere trees… I couldn't catch a smell, I couldn't bear the freeze. I was walking round a dreadful backdrop.. Could you see me there, in my white dress, unable to stop?
I felt weak, I felt my swelling scratches, aching. They awakened the little voices that taught me about forsaking. Do you hear 'em? The little voices? Do you trust 'em? Do you swear by their choices?
I was walking towards the infinite even if I couldn't see the point.. it wasn't day, neither it was night… I was walking round leaves that had to fall in spring, birds that ...
There's nothing I can say that can ease your pain, but I will write... The supdual and the vain. I'll write about your bleeding ode, so maybe I can discern the beauty in the blood, so maybe I can espy the candor in the fraud.
My love, I've always known you and I'm sorry that I haven't told you enough... You're my pride, and I deify you even when it gets tough, even when there's nothing to cherish, even when you bluff.
So let me hear your threnody, even if it poniards my soul, my heart and my body. Let me scream your screams, because I'm you and you're me... Same gruels, same dreams.
You should know now, that villainy has no brows. They raped our flag, split on our land, tr...
Night, again, slips in.. No tip-off, it deliberately wraps up your weakness, your sins... And just like the world around, noiseless, you disappear within.
Darkness' smell, like fatal venom... it penetrates you slowly, inflates your lungs, your heart. Then, once and for all, engulf you.
Because sometimes, just sometimes, obscurity can overlay the light at the end of the tunnel... And it's okay..
Dear "Women's day",
I hate you... Oh please! Don't look so surprised! I hate you, and I'm not even sorry for that.
I hate you for every single and tiny stereotype you're trailing along. I hate you for the "happy women's day" almost everyone's munching, voidly, soullessly, every year. I hate you for some feminists who make it harder to swallow the whole day's jargon, whom I see once in a year and abhor to my deepest cells! I hate you for the big streamers, the fancy meetings they do in your name, while in the same time, the same women still get raped for stepping out of the door, is still seen as a cheap commodity and still defined by how good she cook or how clean is her house. I hate you...