сряда, декември 22, 2010

A monologue for my soul

I am alone this night- a monologue with an intended recipient for the first time. I write to be heard, to be understand because I am lost. And I am angry. And I am pissed so badly. This night I will embrace my old friend the insomnia and I hope that at the end paying with my health and own pain will give him the answers he craves. Again. And everything will change. 

You want me to share. You drive me crazy until I hit the invisible line and then... you are gone. Again. And then as always I am stuck in front of the digital white sheet with tears in my eyes and a pain deep inside me. Again. Like in a magical circle I cannot get out. And you condemn my soul to the torture you want to evade. 

But this time it is different. The girl in the silver cage is mad. So mad that her hands tremble in anger. The tide is coming and the frantic thoughts that fill me are getting out...I have no wonders if you love me or not, nether I question your desires. I just don't understand why you always push me to my self-destruct mode and then back-off. Do I entertain you this way? Are you curios? Because I am not. And I hate it.

I submissively stay at your side. I am tender and smiling even when I am tired. I wait for you to share patiently. I crave your touch every minute. When you turn your back my heart starts to beat faster, my chest aches and I wait for the simplest sign that you are still there. I beg. I beg for things that you do not give me. But I stay nevertheless. The game is on with your rules. You can do whatever you want and I am there to listen, to comply, to succumb to your will. If we are a team, and I believe so, I am the hidden one. But I evolve and change. Every minute. 

...and then we start this conversation again for uncounted time. and everything is the same until the moment of the revelation: you control yourself every moment, you want to shut me up, you ask for my self-control. i can do it. no problems with that. a soft body and a soul elsewhere. a soft touch without the sparks in my eyes... i can do it. i can be more refined, more controlled, more submissive, more plain, more sharing and no more myself. 

Do I love you? Yes, more than my sanity. Do you make me cry? Yes, you do. Why is that? Because you want tears, because you want the walls I build shredded to pieces, because you want to control my sadness. And still... you are the truly sad one. You stay at the bed and watch me. You think all the time. You want me to go back to my past even when I don't need it. I have been lied, you have been too. Maybe. I don't know because I do not ask you and I accept everything as a whole. Not like sliced pages and fragments. Not like someone who has two faces and uses them in different situations. Not the way you think of me. You tell me that you want to embrace me, I just do it. I show you my love all the time but at the end when I am away you tend to search for something more.

...and guess what I think when I am alone... do I make you truly happy? the man who describes himself  with dead eyes, who doesn't know how to love any more, who has lost his hope and trust, the one who takes what he wants... do I make you feel completed? do I meet your expectations? do I bore you sometimes? I do not think about anybody else, ask whoever you want of my friends, ask Her if you want... I talk about you so much that some of them forbade me to do so...

I am scared. Badly. And then again this night there will be nobody to hug me. And I will suffer. And it will change me a little. Again. And someday I will rethink it. And then I will suffer more. Life is about paying all the little prices. I won't be me if you ask me so, but at the end you will get tired. 

Why can't we choose the easy path? We are the same deep inside. With all your troubles and pain.

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