My mind is a dangerous place
I try not to think at anything just to stay sane
Or a bit sane, as you please,
Maybe I have something, I don't know its name
I don't know the name of the disease.
Is it okay if I continuously scream 'Stop! Stop!' ?
Or do I have to keep it flowing?
Put my head into water 10 degrees
Below, so as the mind would drop
To its normal functioning.
They're not voices, that's just me
It's me who wants this, all this seclusion
Me, a sanity wannabe
Me, your next-door delusion
Me, an unwanted flea.
Me, an unwritten conclusion.
'You can't enter here!
Freaks are not allowed!'
'But, but...' the door is shut
And you're again left alone in the big crowd.
While walking along the street
You see a piece of glass
And look at it to see yourself,
Wondering why do they all feel the need to harass.
There is nothing, nothing out of the ordinary
You start to think they are the freaks
Ruthless, merciless, unkind men
Like huge vultures with their cruel beaks.
It's their doing, their fault!
You're as innocent as a lamb
You don't have to believe what they say
You're definitely not a freak... Damn!
So you go to the next house and knock at the door
They open it and shake their head
While you're trying to get into the house
The people who live there shoot you dead.
You're on the stairs, your blood's all over the 'Welcome' carpet
Your mouth is open and the shot your teeth has spread.
As they look closer, they can see very well the face
Of the well-known freak who was long time dead.
'We've known her all our lives and now there's definitely no way of getting her back!' said one of the men choking because of his tears.
'It was her choice, she wanted to come here. Remember?'
Of course he remembered! How could he not? His face became stern.
'Please, don't give me that look... I'm as tired as you are...'
'How could you think that I forgot? She came to me. She asked me for advice. She took my advice. She believed in me. She... I... I didn't know what she was going to do... I didn't know the whole story... I...' And he started crying again.
His friend sighed and looked at him. He was now on his knees, crying and repeating 'I didn't know... I didn't know...'
'She knows all the things you have done for her. All the things we have done for her. Maybe she didn't know what she had gotten herself into... You were a good friend and you helped her. You were always there when she needed help.'
'Then, why was she so selfish? How could she do this to us? How could she do this to me?' His eyes were read from the tears, his lips were trembling and his whole body was shaking continuously.
'She just... You knew the state she was in... Always crying... Until she met him...'
'What about us? God, I feel like I'm the selfish one!'
'No, you're not... I don't know what to say... I never knew. That's why she always came to you because she knew that you always say the right words.' He smiled sadly.
He suddenly stopped and stared at him. Then he looked down.
'You never understood her... It's always black and white to you... Her ideas were shades of gray. But that doesn't mean that she didn't love you! You always made her laugh. Remember her laugh?' For the first time, he smiled.
'Yes, yes I do.' There was a smile in return. 'Look, take my handkerchief.'
He looked at it and started crying again.
It was a present.
Given by her.
I'm still breathless, and I can't resurrect
And I'm stuck at this song, it's on repeat.
'Down in a Hole', Layne's words are
I'm down in that hole, I accept defeat.
Part of my growing up, they say,
It will be over and you will one day smile
Maybe they're right, maybe they too were like me in a way
But unlike them, I want to stay in this hole a little while.
There have been so many times in which you felt like a Jew in front of Hitler, like a a woman in front of the puritans, like a heretic during the Inquisition, like Anne Boleyn in front of Henry VIII, like a mouse in front of a cat, like a drop in front of the storm, like white in front of black, like a soul in a body, like a coffin in a graveyard.
I'm dead.
Wonderful is the instinct of preservation
The things that your mind just block
The things that you don’t know how to handle
The things which you control them with an enormous lock.
You say ‘no’, but inside it's ‘yes’
Up there, it’s like a never-ending hurricane.
Which spins and spins, but in the end
You just want to keep your mind sane.
One day it will all go out
And the crossed out thoughts would be unleashed
Then you will remain silent
Watching the enormous lock broken, unwished.
You sit on the grass, staring at the sky. There are the white clouds, there are the singing birds, there is the choking silence, there are your boring, every day ideas running around. And there, next to one cloud, the one that looks like fuck-cares, is a plane. You remember what they say about planes. Someone loves you... Then this tiny, useless thing becomes an obsession, a superstition, which starts to guide your life and which gives you hope. You start to feed on it, and every time you see a plane, you're all in a 'oh, someone loves me!' kind of mood.
But one day, you're going to travel by plane, you're going to be high in the sky, near the clouds which resemble as another fuck-cares, or maybe that person might give a fuck, next to somebody's running ideas, being a certain person's obsession, superstition, guider of life and giver of hope. A feeder for the soul. A noise for the silence.
He rushed through the door. There was sweat on his forehead. He breathed heavily. His eyes were almost falling from his eye sockets. His mouth was open to inhale the air better.
He had run all the way. Where could she be?
'Doctor ! Doctor !' he nervously said.
'Yes, sir! What seems to be the problem?'
'My wife has just given birth ! I'm a father ! I'm finally a father !' His words were flowing out of his mouth and his hands were trembling with excitement. ' I want to see her !'
'That's fine, sir, but in what room is she?' the doctor patiently asked.
'Uhmm... I don't know...' the nervousness suddenly turned into fear.
'Well', the doctor continued, 'what is her name then?'
Her name... Her name... What was her name?... He couldn't remember. His mind was blank. His breathing slowed. The trembling of his hands had gone. Instead, a flush of worry had gotten over him. He looked right into the doctor's eyes and said: 'I don't remember...' He himself couldn't believe it. But it was true ! It was true...
The doctor looked quite surprised. 'Wait here a second, sir.'
The man simply nodded. His look of amazement was transfixed in a single spot of the room. The floor. The plain white marbled floor. With his right hand, he searched a chair behind him. He had found one and slowly sited on it. Not even the floor, or the uncomfortable chair, or the injured people who were around him couldn't stop him thinking of his forgetfulness.
The doctor came back. 'Follow me, please. '
As woken from a reverie, he jumped of his seat and and did as he was told.
Room 283. Oh my God! 283 ! It's the... It's the...
'Hello, Mr. Jefferson !' said the nurse. 'Come in !' He hoped that his wife was okay. His wife, Natasha Jefferson...
He went in the room. On the bed there was the beautiful paled Natasha. She had fallen asleep with a smile on her
face. 'Congratulations, you have a baby girl !' said the nurse with his child in her arms.
'Tha... Th.. Thank you !'
He stuttered. He was staring at the little beauty and again, for the second time that day, he didn't know what to say. 'Can I hold her?'
He had her now. Her closed eyes with her little head and her puny hands, always trying to clutch something. Maybe the time until her departure...
'I'm glad to say that your new-born daughter is in perfect health !'
He looked at her and smiled. 'Thank you !'
'Isn't she beautiful?' Natasha said as she was slowly waking up.
'Yes, darling ! Of course she is ! Just as her mother.'
Natasha smiled.
Vulnerable coeur
My inside you tore
Apart and gone
And I still sore.
Vulnerable before
All these were over
Now your face
In my knife I bore.
‘Should I go there? Should I stay? No, no… I think it's better straight ahead… This is so hard!...’ She sighed and continued her way. ‘Where am I heading to? I really don’t know…’
I looked at her. She seemed so confused. She needed help, but I couldn’t give her advice because I didn’t know where she wanted to go. The circles that she made on the pavement. The squares, too. And let’s not forget the triangles… She really didn’t know where to go to. Like me. The pavement was my life. Her indecision was my opinions. I couldn’t help her… I just couldn’t… So, I stepped on her. She was dead. Next pavement...
'Where is she? Oh, look! There she is!'
'But what's that?'
'It's her again!'
'But but...'
'No buts! You know that she's everywhere... We just have to do the puzzle.'
So they started searching her. Or at least, what was left of her... One piece here, another one there...
'Yes! Finally! We've got them all! As we were told: there are infinite pieces. We got them all...'
They worked day and night, never once complaining. They wanted her back. They needed her. She was vital for their lives. They couldn't live without her. While she was alive, she realized this, but she didn't care that much. The infinite seemed to attract her, so she chose that instead. This 'game' as they called it was their only way to have her back. The only way to tell her that they loved her...
'Ah! Why don't these two pieces work? They seem like they could, don't they?'
'Yeah, they do. These two don't work either.'
'Hmmm... Weird. Guess we have to search for others. Maybe they will.'
'Yes, i think you're right.'
So, they kept searching for years and years to come...
'Ah! I think I'm ready!'
'Yes, I guess I'm ready too!'
They were looking at her in great amazement. She was beautiful! Just as they remembered her...
'Why isn't she moving? She should be moving because we've made the puzzle, right? Right?' said one of them with worry and horror in his voice.
'Yes, i remember that, too. Hmmm... Look! See there?' and he pointed at where a missing piece should have been.
'I do! But where is it?'
They started searching everywhere! They were like madmen! 'Where could it be?'
After millions of years, one of them saw something glowing in the infinite. 'Maybe that is the one... Yes! Yes! That's the one!' He took it and put it back in place. Both of them had their eyes wide-opened and were waiting any second for her to catch life. But there was nothing. Only silence...
'Where is she?' said one of them impatiently. 'I want her! Where is she?'
Another million year passed and still there was nothing. 'I guess that she's not going to be ours again... All this time would have been nothing if she finally was alive now. But at last, we should go... We can't do more...'
'I guess you're right' said the other one, with tears in his eyes. 'But i did love her...'
'So did I, my friend... So did I...'
And they left.
Yesterday i went to the Anathema Unplugged concert. As me and my friend were waiting to get an autograph from Vincent Cavanaugh, he said something that Ireene and me started to think about: 'From the countries that i have been to, Romanian people speak English very well. You all realize that you have to get out of this shithole.' It just made me think of a man's need to have a good life and the everyday struggle that he has to put up with, with the world and with himself... The gig was wonderful and breath taking, if you were wondering *hehe*
Perfect stillness, besides the rising of her chest
Watery eyes and a broken smile.
She feels her heart beating through her entire body
Although it had stopped beating for a while.
The pleasure she had offered to her naked shell
Was the one that made the pearl burn.
But looking at the right side of the bed
There wasn’t, isn’t and never will be a heart beating in return.
The silence of your thoughts. The memory of the person who you haven’t met. His skin that you haven’t tasted. His eyes that you haven’t looked in. His tender touch that you haven’t felt. The inexistent I LOVE YOU whisper. Emptiness around you and in you, covering you and being you. Missing part. Missing heart. Missing soul. You have it all.
