“The path to Hell is always paved with good intentions”.
He knew that. He learned it the hard way. If they only knew… they in fact surfaced his way back home. They didn’t know of the creature lurking inside of him. He knew he didn’t belong, but where on Earth he would go? Used, mocked and ashamed for mistakes he did not commit. The ones he did… were hunting him and always pinching him in the back of his head. He grew up wandering and wondering. All the women who passed by his bed never made him feel more than carnal pleasure. All the men who drank with never fulfilled more than his social needs. His mother used to tell him that there is something in store for everyone and that he is no exception… He smiled thinking it was the only time his mother was wrong.
He walked the streets imaging how it would have been if he lived in another era… Back in the days when there was no artificial mechanisms, when it became dark along with the nightfall. He wanted to believe in possibilities. If it was to meet someone, he wished that person would be as misguided as he was. He loved to walk the path of Ancestry. He wanted more than this world has to give. He liked to think that the Universe made a mistake, that he was born to late. Little did he knew he lived a thousand lives before this one. Cursed to roam forever in confusion in every life that he’d receive. cursed to search for his stone. The Stone that would give him meaning and purpose.
Along the axis of time he searched and searched. For years, centuries and epochs he struggled to find Something. The Something waited for entire eras for him to come back. His Embla waited for so long… on the other side. He was to return Home soon.
When he will be ready, he will go back to his life, to his Stone and to himself. Until then, the ride is full of soul. The stories that he’ll tell to his kin. The things he learned in order to be complete. What took her seven lifetimes to see, took him hundreds more to believe. But as he has few things he likes in this life…
The Show Must Go On.
I want to fade… I want for the sea to take me. I want to let the wind carry me to unseen places on the other side of the world. I want a leaf to transcend me into other realms. I want to find something else. I need to discover another side. The story ain’t over, yet closure I want. But it ain’t in a world of perish. A portal to another dimension. A portal to a life of wisdom. A door to other horizons. Wide open windows to flaming souls – is what I seek. Ephemeral ways are no longer my path. All the energies passing by… they are whispering in glasses. Purple wine overflows golden bottles. It fogs the vision of white powder. Green liquor melts stone goblets. Rain embracing blue flames. To be taken where birds are walking under flying tigers and next to swimming hyenas… that is where lost images might be and craved words might be seen. It seems like yesterday in the next season. The cold summer in the heated winter. Flowers blooming in the time of Autumn. And leaves dying in the Spring Equinox. The imprisoned Death in the suffocating arms of life. Just like a Lover dying for Love… a heart without cries but full of ideas. A brain without rationalism but full of emotions. What they seek inside, I find everywhere but around me. Alive in illusions and dead in the right hemisphere. I seem to seek the seek. I seem to forget the remembrance. I apparently crave the actions of a fervor. I crave the attention of life. A proof needed to deny oblivion. I dream about souls turned into pages, only to be able to collect them into a book. Just like a tree collecting leaves.Mythological dreams return in time to give back their own clarity. The creatures coming back only to prove themselves still capable of breathing again. A treasure captured in a royal mind, like a warrior kept under a flaming cage.
The afternoon sun of a spring day is following her down the street. She walks in a calm pace enjoying the fact that she can wear her leather jacket and sunglasses again. Before she lights a cigarette while walking, she takes a deep breath to feel a light scent of rebirth in nature; only that the beautiful medieval city she lives in, doesn’t smell like that at all… it smells like Death. The smell of rotting bodies is invading her lungs now. Her face frowns as her skin trembles and for a moment her mind is taken far away, in heavier times. She tries to banish the morbid thoughts from her head, fixes her aviator sunglasses and takes a cigarette out of her pocket. She lights the Lucky Strike with her silver lighter and she continues to walk, but she is walking now as doesn’t want to disturb anything else…
She is now on her way back home. It is warm outside and she doesn’t feel comfortable with it. “I have to wash the dishes, to clean my desk, to do laundry and write the presentation for tomorrow… Fuck!”, her thoughts are filled up with what she has to do when she gets to the dorms. These chores are not the only things running through her mind now… she has the feeling someone, something is following her. It is a creepy feeling that now surrounds her like an aura. She looks around and behind but nothing and no one is there since it isn’t such a populated shortcut in the old city.
The raven colored haired girl changes the song to blast in her earbuds with something that might be cheering her up. Surprisingly she chooses a song that she didn’t listen since the tenth grade. She remembers how she used to enjoy looking at people as they walked, she liked to observe them, to analyze them. She takes the shot to do it again as she is now on the main street and people are walking right by her. The girl sees indifferent faces, sad faces, preoccupied faces, worried faces, mad faces, insane faces, dreamy, absent but just like before only one or two faces smiling. the young woman wonders if the others can smell the macabre scent that persisted in the air; probably not. It becomes more and more annoying with every step as the gross smell now starts to sting her nostrils. She focuses on the lyrics of the song that probably is contributing to her hearing destruction and smiles at everything it reminds her of… She really is questioning everything these days.
The girl is now in the front of her dorm building and she chooses to stay only to flirt with the end of her days once again. As she lights another cigarette she takes a deep breath and is surprised by the warm smell replaced the ugly one. It smells like warm, leaves and wind. She can now shake now all the nasty thoughts out of her head; she takes the last drags and reviews once more her tasks and… “Shit… let’s get it over with.”
‘I look at her talking and… her face, her skin starts to crack. Before I knew it she shatters into million pieces. What was that… what was, is this? How… how do I go back? Where do I go back? My room and him… Who’s him? I start to remember what induced me into this lethargy. The blood. Our hands. I close my eyes and try to focus on my room. It feels like one of those dreams when you are falling but now, instead of skyscrapers, I am surrounded by flames. Flames that do not burn, but cut my skin. I hit the ground.’
The only thing I hear screaming in the back of my head is something that I say for years now… “Open your eyes. Close your heart.” I hear it louder and louder; I am afraid to open my eyes. I am afraid of where I may find myself. How long I stayed as a breathing cadaver?! What just happened? All the things I saw. All the things I remembered. All my life… all of the lives I lived. I feel my entire body numb. I feel the surface of my skin ice cold. My palm is pumping pain. My lungs are screaming for the forest scent. My mind is putting puzzle pieces where was void. My throat is burning. My stomach feels the puns of a dagger over and over again. I want to open my eyes but why can’t I let them open… I need strength to do that; a lot actually… Something soft caresses my frozen face. It feels like fur and it’s warm. The familiar smell of cigarettes is slowly making place in my nose. I have to do this. I have to open my eyes. “Oh, on Seven Hells!”.
I can see now the so familiar painted ceiling of my room.
So well known for her cruelty.
So loved for all her atrocities.
So blamed for all her doings.
So admired for her wars.
So hated for her laws.
So denied for her morals.
So feared for all her tortures.
So exiled for the good inside her.
So misunderstood for all her crimes.
So honored for the lives she took.
So sad for the lack of light in her soul.
So proud for the darkness inside her mind.
So enraged for the army she controlled.
So tired for the Crown upon her head.
So sinful for the roses in her gardens.
So tragic for the men in her chambers.
So innocent for the pages in her bedroom.
So terrifying for the souls at her gates.
So kind for the animals in her forests.
So little for the lover in her bed.
So much more for the lust in her.
So tormented for her Throne.
So black for her heart.
So red for the tears she screamed.
So gore for her victims.
So envied by the women who wished were her.
So cold for the Summer’s Day.
So outside for the times she lives in.
So focused on her duty.
SO NECESSARY FOR HERSELF.
SO HEARTFELT FOR THE EVIL INSIDE HER.