My mind is my friend and enemy
My body, is a battle in which morality isn’t formed. Together they remain untouched off the slices of social norm. They make love creating traces of sins. Left me stunned in the mist that suddenly assault. Dark and damp. Wet and solemn. Like prayers without any rituals listed in holy books.
I, remain silent, because it hurts too much to say a word. Meanings, spelled in stuttered silence. My apathy kills more than the cigars I smoke and the sleepless nights, left half full bottle of wine as if it’s a worthless entity.
The horizon of what can be morally accepted seems to be too difficult to understand. Like the rocky roads every civilized human being avoids. Those all, blackened my heart, with a dot of pink left. Just enough to make me human.
Kindness can be separated off the common moral beliefs. I am, despicable and honorable at once, which make me powerless and don’t have the will to think more thoroughly regarding social acceptance.
The pink that left inside my heart, is a glimmer of hope towards the aging world. Even though it’s only a dot, it is real. My biggest fear is to lose the ability to see the glimmer of pink when everything else blackened, disappeared in the dark.
I, want to spread the seed of virtue, yet only a dot of brightness I do have, a dot that might be unacceptable for you because of the strong dark side within me, that gets you blind.
I want to tell you beautiful bed time stories, about the peaceful and wealthy kingdom, about a serene and happy life, of where the lights come from. Yet, honey, reality doesn’t enable me to create the light to your soul in the way you wanted. I cannot spark to my soul every beautiful story you wanted to hear each night.
The night, honey, would not forever recite how sweet life can be. The night is the place where I learn to unify my body with the reality under the obscure red light. The night, is where I work, and sleep, and moan… under the red light.
Nothing is too wrong. Yet I am sick. My body, my mind, and you all, seems so wrong. But there is nothing too wrong.
I am sick. Groaning. In the box. Where my body unified with the realness of the obscure red light.