Tuesday, 11 May 2010

Crossing the lines

A few days passed, a few things happened.
I failed at most exams and my heart was mostly forgotten, still a few beats were still missing.

Time was simply passing.

I was simply existing.
Walking in any streets, I was simply letting go, letting life guide me anywhere.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

Running from the world, I was found.
Spotted and captured by an angel. Purity and innocence. Cleverness and utter cuteness.
Only a few minutes of information and nothing else was necessary. Aphrodite’s son hit me yet another time.

Once again, I was taken aback and my mind was absolutely somewhere else.

My thoughts, my heart, they were all pointing to other side of the line, of the edges.

And our moments became so warm, so special, so beautiful.
Like a poetry written in bad English, feelings were the only motor force behind us, making it all appealing just for the hearts involved, no one else.
We were quietly moving fast into a new direction. Maybe I was going even faster myself.

No, the tension moments are to be forgotten.

Got my admission.
Then I left my house, left my clothes. Crossed the bridge, crossed all the lines.
Inside me, a wide open door.
Heaven knows. You’re so worth it.
Hit the road.

At that point, I was pretty much uncertain on what exactly I was after, or if I was ever going to get any of it.My fear led me to establish a limit of my hopes: that was a quest for my sanity. I needed some fresh air. I needed to go somewhere new.

My throat was, however, half closed. There was that burning crave inside of me. Difficult to win it over.

A gentle old lady beside me giving me the candies I needed to make the sour flavour of waiting just a bit sweeter.

Heart beating hard. Butterflies in my stomach, flying up to my throat and almost finding their way out of my mouth.

“All the luck to you, my young boy” – the words I heard from that lovely old woman as she, with her both hands, held my right hand, immediately before we went separate ways.

And there it was, staring back at me: the sweetest reality.

I was feeling obviously nervous, but the tension slowly gave space to comfort and to a very enjoyable time.
Yes, I was enjoying myself amidst that unknown place. Such a lovely piece of country to be and to explore your universe.

“It’s weird, I’m not nervous with you” were the words I, once again, heard, sitting on the terrace of that intimate restaurant, which provided a romantic environment and a beautiful view of the coast – sadly and ironically spoiled by the darkness of the night. But the words, would they, this time, be enough?

Slowly walking back home, the lights and the stars glowing in our eyes, and the emotion making me truly starry eyed.

And then I threw my heart.
Let’s join forces/We’ve got the guns and horses

Next thing… We’re touching.

Oh dear reader. Just a bunch of new experiences and dreams come true.
Just beauty and colours.
And poetry.

And then it was time to leave.
Things went a bit cold, actually.

A shock of views, a shock of culture, and then you can nearly have a glimpse of how bloody wars have their beginnings…

Friendship is a promise. Am I breaking it?
Pretend you can’t take what you’ve found.

Three magic words. Three overrated words. Three forbidden words. Internationally.

And as the autumn rain started it – eventually violent – falling, I took my way back home.
And the holidays were over.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand how things happened and how they reached that point. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how I walked into that trap and how it all turned out to be what it did.

So magical, yet so twisted and complex.

My heart feels more comfortable, but, still, obviously not satisfied.

And my quest for sanity, well, it ended up being a bit successful actually.

Nevertheless, I’m still just existing, just breathing.

When will I live?

These questions keep bugging me. Meanwhile, I act random, I move away from myself.

And life, lived or not, keeps on.

Hope I can get myself on track really soon.

Amazing midweek, dear reader.