Ash, Believe, Blind, bra, broken, chase, Crying, dawn, death, Dream, English, faith, Fear, Fighting, flying, Future, Hate, hollow, humanity, Illusion, light, Live, Love, mask, Me, numb, Pain, Past, phoenix, rebirth, reborn, run, Soul, torn, twilight, YANG, YIN
Guess it’s time to write some down, been way too long since the last time. Before you question anything, I write this in English, because this is my self chosen language for emotional stuff and right now I can feel them. They call me …, … …, but I prefer to call myself bra, because I’m my own bra. My birthname is …, but is this really my name and is this really me? Who am I? I just asked this question myself a million times. I am my own bra, I am myself, the best I there ever is. I’m not the mask I’m wearing, but sometimes I don’t even know the face behind that mask.
But this is kinda a testimony for myself. A torn soul writing this on a broken laptop. Ironic I guess but true. Something broken that needs fixing. I lost something on the way, a part of myself. I thought I could rule the world, but then started running away. It hurts, thinking bout this hurts but this is the truth I don’t wanna face. I started smoking to make things easier and they got. The easy way just keeps smiling and the sun will rise and fall again, every day till the end of time.
I’m kinda stuck and lost at this busstop at the end of the world. Not the end of my world, just some little no name saloon at the end of the road. I’m used to being alone, used to just have myself and the lonely road , used to hate myself, still can’t forgive myself, but I’m fighting, every day, every day, every day, every day, every day till I won’t? My struggle defined my, I am my struggle, do I really want it to end? Is my struggle the only thing I have?
So there’s this saloon, just a lonely bartender and two fools chilling there at the bar, like YIN and YANG, two sides of a coin, two faces of the same body. Brothers in blood, enemies in dreams, bound together by fate to this forsaken place. He orders drinks for them both, he knows he will need something, sits back and lights that cigarette. “You know, if u beat a dog enough, he will come back for more? Because it’s all he knows.” He looks around and sees him nodding. Taking a sip he continues. “Ironic what we can become if we are lost in the woods. I mean how hollow and numb we can become. How can it be that we forget our greatest achievements and redo our mistakes? I think I lost my time, I’m living in the past of yesterdays today, don’t really care bout consequences, cuz they’ll just hit me tomorrow. Is this right or wrong, I can’t even tell. I don’t care? Too hung up with myself? Like a self sufficient machine?” He looks around in the smiling face “Nah bra, you wanna walk together, we all want to” he replies and continuous “think about that girl with the black hair. You really loved her and she broke your heart. In fact she fucking broke you, destroyed that shield, you build around yourself, for protection against the world. Real and unreal, trapped in a dream, waking up sucks. Dancing with Illusion, escaping reality. You never really recovered from that, didn’t ya? You’re still on the run, the chase of the past, of the lost things. You said you did get over that, you lied so good, you started believing your own lies. Sure u can be a self sufficient machine, but I think and guess u believed that lie, that Illusion too. U became an Illusion to survive, to protect the chaos inside u choose to sacrifice, u sacrificed too much, way too much.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “Remember how lucky u were, walking side by side, walking down into the sunset? Remember how u smiled, how u laughed, not because u thought it was time to laugh, because u wanted to laugh. Remember the warmth, the feeling of being blessed. You might have forgotten, lost ur luggage while being on the run. But it’s not lost forever. There is so much still to see, so much still to do and to live for. So much to miss, if you just keep running, so much more to lose, if u keep running.” Silence, no more words, a single tear drops, as he looks down, down to the mess he calls himself.
The gun is cold and heavy, the silver steel softly kisses his forehead, the familiar setting left behind, a last refuge. The card house is falling, breaking a part, build on this rotten foundation, it was only a question of time. As he pulls the trigger one thought hits him.
“We come from ash,
Cleansed by the wild fire,
Open eyed we are reborn,
To find our true selves.
We are ash,
Defined by the struggle,
Reborn as ash,
The circle continues.”
The hammer hits, the gun drops, falling from heaven, no more tears. The wind mourns and the sun rises, as two Souls were made one and an end brought a new dawn.