Thoughts have Mood Swings. Period. (no pun intended)

Thoughts are a treacherous kind.

We depend on them.
They are the reason we can take care of ourselves and don’t constantly run into walls.
Mostly, I am thankful for whatever pops into my head, but there are days, when my thoughts seem to have their panties in a bunch – and whenever that happens, I’m in for nasty surprises.

Today, they got me.
They got me good.
I was hovering in a pleasant state of mind – all ‘rainbows and unicorns‘, when all of a sudden, this nasty bucket of thought-filth emptied itself right inside of my head… and, of course, I was so dumbfounded, I forgot where I placed my Mental Mop.
I had no choice but to wade, knee-deep, in old and rotten memories for a while – such fun.

Usually, I am a linear thinker, but sometimes, unpleasant and uninvited thoughts strike me out of the blue – and I have no idea whatsoever where they came from. Like a bunch of relatives showing up for a surprise visit when it’s ‘washing day’ – and you’re wearing this filthy sweatshirt, sweatpants and granny panties.
What a nice surprise.

Perhaps thoughts are ‘encrypted messages’ from my subconscious – to show me, that I still have work to do… that I can’t just bury unpleasantness and leave it to rot. perhaps it’s my subconscious complaining that I use it as a storage room – for all the nasty stuff I don’t want to deal with.
I guess I’ll have to find out.

Sometimes thoughts suck.
Sometimes, I wish there was an off-switch… in case of emergency.

mary’s smile

he was dying and he knew it.
he was imagining things, truly a bad sign.

not enough oxygen left to keep the brain functioning.

he tried to calm himself, to keep his breathing shallow.

whatever you do, do not hyperventilate. do not hyperventilate.

Mary.
Mary on barbecue-sunday with a purple flower in her hair, smiling the smile of a thousand suns. how beautiful she looked in her thin dress, flapping in the light breeze, outlining her slender frame.
his woman.
she laughed and pointed towards the cooler, told him to ‘go, have a treat’.
he licked his lips.

beer.
ice-cold.
pearly water droplets ran down the tinted glass of a dozen bottles – fleeing the hot sun beating down on them… heading for the cooler; more inviting touch of the ice cubes below. the air smelled of burgers, slowly grilling. he could hear the meat juice drip onto the coals, leaving hisses trailing through the air, announcing their surrender to heat.
mmmh perfect.
his mouth started to water.

he opened his eyes.
darkness.

the flashlight they had granted him had given out a while ago.
how long ago, he could not tell.
minutes?
hours?
days?
he couldn’t remember.
he could hear the quiet ticking of his wristwatch.

how ironic. the one time you remember to put it on.

he licked his lips again, grateful for the bit of moisture his brief escape had given him. thirst gnawed at him, but he tried his best to ignore it.
his brief escape.
there was no escape for his body… but they would not imprison his mind.

he felt the cold creeping through the wooden box surrounding him. imprisoning him.
dry earth.
he was sure of it.

he had screamed his lungs out for what seemed like days; until his throat was raw and dry, until he could scream no more.
no answer.

his kicking and thrashing hadn’t done him any good neither, he had tried… until his hands and feet were bloody and bruised. other than the occasional trickling of dust and dirt, he hadn’t accomplished a thing.

he had cried.
how much he had cried.
he had panicked.
he had kicked and thrashed some more.
… he had cried some more.

that had been then… when he still had hope left.

he had given up.
there was no escaping his prison… his box in the ground.
he would die here.
lost and alone.

it didn’t matter anymore.
nothing mattered.
not thirst, not hunger, not longing.
nothing mattered.

his memories… were all he had left.
he embraced them with his soul.

he yawned, didn’t deny himself the deep breath that came with it.

so tired now. so tired…

darkness surrounded him, crowded his eyes, made his skin crawl.

so tired.

he would go to her.
he would close his eyes and see her. see her smile again.
smile…
just for him.

i love you, baby.

he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
he dreamed of her face…

he never woke again.

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inspired by the movie “Buried”. if you’re claustrophobic, do not watch it.

photo credits: orlund.com

Epiphany

Have you ever felt… utterly peaceful?
Have you ever felt so warm inside… so calm… that you didn’t dare move, fearing it might go away?
Eventually, you did move… and you saw your fear had no substance – the feeling was still there.
It could not be taken from you so easily.

I was granted a wonderful sliver of peace yesterday… and I still draw from it, savor it – I haven’t felt like this in all my life. This feeling… it’s so delicate, fragile… and so very mind-blowing.

Someone once said to me:

“Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but you never know when beauty will just fall from  the sky and appear right in front of you.”

I do not know if this is a famous quote, if someone important said it. Honestly, I do not care.
This one stuck with me throughout the years for one particular reason… I never understood it.
Sure, I thought it was pretty… so I memorized it and wrote it down – but it never really made sense to me.
Never.

Nice words can still be empty of meaning if the recipient is blocked. You smile and nod, but there’s this big question mark hovering over your head, labeling you a retard – you wish it would just go away and leave you in peace… but that won’t happen. You have the wrong key and can’t open this freaking door that keeps you from opening your eyes for real.
It’s so frustrating.

This persistent barricade evaporated yesterday.
Vanished into thin air.
Wow.
Just WOW.

Beauty did not only fall from the sky and appear right in front of me, it hit me straight in the face.
Most pleasant smack in the head I have ever gotten.
This overwhelming sensation gripped me… I do not really know how to describe it, just… incomprehensible.

I wanted to laugh…
I wanted to cry…
I wanted to stare in awe…
But most of all, I felt so thankful… through and through.
Still do.

I think I was aware that beauty is hidden in the smallest, simplest things. At least I like to believe I was. I just never expected to be so overwhelmed by something so… simple.

Words. Just words.

That was all it took to trigger this… epiphany.

I do not know if this will ever happen to me again, but the memory of this feeling will be embedded in my self. My being.
I am so grateful I was allowed to witness this.

Never stop looking for beauty in life.
You never know where it’s hidden.

You might think you know what it looks like… but if you’re still just a tiny bit uncertain, let me tell you – once you’ve truly seen it, you will know.
And you will understand.
__________________________________
thank you, A. from the bottom of my heart.

shadow’s speech

it is said that when you gaze into the Abyss, it stares back.
at you… at your soul.

i have been there. i looked.
i would not know if it gazes at your soul… i gambled mine away a long time ago.

i was human, once. i was like you.
now… i don’t really know who or what i am. i am… something.
a shape, a shadow; a memory of my former self, too determined to leave this world.

you do not think i know you, but i do. and you know me, too.
i am the breeze in the calm night that makes your skin crawl.
the floorboard that creaks when you try to fall asleep… it is me who treads there.
it is me you feel staring at your back; you turn and look, but you cannot see.

it might seem that way, but… i am not your nightmare.
nor the monster under your bed, waiting to skin you alive.
let me say, i am a guardian.
i am one of many.

am.
that is all that matters.

my task is not an easy one and i am sure your mortal mind would not even begin to understand, should i try to explain. i do not blame you. some things in this universe are not meant to be grasped.

after all this time watching you, i could not hold back to speak to you any longer. not with what is to come.
you look so peaceful in your sleep. not a care in the world on your mind – or so it seems. i wish i could go where you are, be where you are… not know the things i know, not remember the things i have seen.  i miss the feeling of safety. in some ways, being mortal is a blessing. you are blind to many things… and with blindness comes bliss.
sometimes, i envy you.

i know you cannot hear me, but maybe you will remember me… in some way. remember that i existed.
you are my hope. my hope, that i will not fade… not pass without at least existing in someone’s memory.
i chose you.
please… do not disappoint me.
remember me. it is all i ask.

i dread where i have to go… what i have to do, but it’s okay. i have known from the start that it would come to this. i feel no fear; only a sliver of relief that the day is finally here.

i must leave you now.

my final battle is about to begin. i would not want to miss it.

sleep, child.
sleep.
and dream of better days…

the morning after

the early morning sky looked beautiful.
sunny and clear, a light breeze blew stray strands of hair out of his face.
he closed the car door and inhaled deeply, trying to chase away the cold that had settled in his heart with a lungful of crisp air.
it did not work.
a sip of the stale coffee he had purchased at the drive-thru of one of these cheap food chain restaurants didn’t help, either. it tasted bitter in its styrofoam cup, even though he had put lots of sugar in it.
still, it couldn’t mask the taste of bile in his throat.

she had died about three hours ago. died… under sterile, fluorescent lights; to the soundtrack of a monitor, flatlining.
she had died with a tired smile, resting her frail hand in his.

as he approached the front door, he dismissed the mail, bulging out of the dirty-white mailbox, with a single tired glance.

not now.

with shaking fingers, he turned his copy of the key in the lock and pushed the door open to the familiar sound of wood meeting slightly too high carpet.
home.
he was home.

she hadn’t changed much during the years. everything felt the same, looked the same.
the furniture was still familiar; old, but well-kept. even the faint, lemony scent of furniture polish hung in the air. his throat constricted. he swallowed.
memories.
he could see himself… an ungainly, clumsy boy, taking the creaky wooden stairs two at a time, eagerly following his mother’s call for dinner. he remembered the slight smile on her face as she told him not to scamper while ruffling his hair.
that had been years ago.

he slumped into the easy chair sitting in the corner by the window; his mother’s favorite spot. scanning the magazines on the small table next to it, he finally gave in to the exhaustion.
the house felt so empty.
her presence no longer lingered here.
she was gone. forever.

what to do now?