„I choose my own destiny“.

railtrack-cat

That’s such a common phrase, I often just smile and go from hearing it in a distant conversation.

What the f…. k can you choose? You are buried down with your own thoughts, worries, everyday obligations that just need to be done.

No excuses for that.

No excuses for not going to work even if you feel  and think that you’d rather stay home.

You must stay alert and do your obligations as they come.

Every morning when I woke up, and barely pull out myself out of the bed, I sincerely ask myself, where did last ten years go? Flushed down the toilet, wasted and thrown away.

Wasted on and for the others.

I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror.

Hopeless face that has come to the final conclusion.

You don’t choose anything.

Everything else chooses you. And there’s

nothing, absolutely nothing you can do about it.

Of course, you can decide for yourself if you’re gonna wear that pair of shoes today or not… but that’s so irrelevant.

The big life choices and decisions, oh, you thought you made it yourself?! Do not be stupid!  You were probably influenced by people surrounding you, your community and way of life that is „prescribed“ to you.

We are just a mass of entities, like an ant farm, running around, unable to see the bigger picture. The more you run, the more you dig yourself into the everyday that happen’s everyday, the more you are detached from life and from yourself.

I am detached. It’s kinda floating feeling. Acting as a robot, doing stuff that needs to be done.

And real Me?  Cuddled somewhere deep inside waiting… not knowing what am I waiting for. But I do know one thing. There is no f… g way to get out of the line that just keeps leading you further and further. No stopping , just moving forward. Walking straight, you and the rest of the herd.

If you think that you are not the same kind and you’re somehow different, you are in a such mistake. As always.

Because the truth is not available to us, common people. We are just wanderers keeping what we need to keep, doing what we must do, and  NOT what we want to do.

Rebel, you may say, someone who will just push and overcome all of this.

Wanna be a rebellion? Just come on, play it. You will not last for a day. This game has rules. Obedience. If you fight against it, you’ll just vanish in the thin air.

I thought that this mind retrospective would be a positive one. But, I do realize now that it is not either positive or negative. It is just REAL.

Trigeminy.

Words, spoken

I will let out  two, three words, sliding down my cheeks.

 

I do not want to steal the future time

I ‘d rather keep honor guard to the dead thoughts.

 

One day I will escape utterly, and leave a void for the last wish.

 

The autumn sky will be hidden by the gap of emptiness

And death.

 

Then, with the move of an experienced gambler, I’ll pull rope on the neck

Of nonexistent, the untouchable body.

 

I’ll let down my cheek

Two or three words.

 

Thus, comforted,  I will go to meet him, to appraise whether sensible

The spilled words where.

Trigeminy303

Boy and his sorrow dragons

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One winter morning, a boy woke up.

He was not any particular boy, or the morning was in any way special.

He knew it was Christmas, but he had long ceased to believe in the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, St. Nicholas, and everything else that makes kid feel like a kid.

Under the Christmas tree stood a gift. He knew what he got. He felt no happiness or joy. He didn’t care. At all.

Mom was still asleep. It was early in the morning.

The boy took his favorite books about dragons, made himslef some warm milk, and read.

Outside, it was snowing.

He wondered if maybe later he’ll go out, but even for that he had no will.

He read and enjoyed his imaginary world.

Where there is no contention, grief, loss, illness and tears.

For his age he had seen too much.

He decided to open a gift when mom woke up.

He will fake joy and play with her.

He knew she was looking forward to it. Knew she loved him soo much that it hurted.

When he was telling her that he loves her, then the tears came. She cried for because of so much love she had.

But the boy was in pain because she was always sad. even while she was laughing with him, while they watched movies, drawing, he could fell some kind a void inside her.

He knew why. He was just a child, but not in his mind. He knew.

When she wakes up, he’ll make coffee. That would cheer her up.

His friend Fred called to meet with him this afternoon. To play outside, in the snow.

He refused. He did not like to leave mother alone. He loved to be with her, every possible moment he had.

Maybe mum did not know how he sees everything. How he feel everything.

Although being just a child, he learned to suppress emotions. Just like mother did.

Their grief turned into something invisible but always present and touchable, like a soap ballon ready to burst.

He replaced this surrounding grief world, with his own, in whom dragons ruled, mums didn’t cried, didn’t have to take medications, and mums never had to leave home. Sometimes she was gone for days, weeks.

It didn’t make a difference if he knew where mum left. When she returned she was different and changed, less sad, but always brought that bubble again with her. Invisible, yet touchable.

He did not want to change anything. He knew that everything would be fine. He just to be there, for her, for him.

To be good. To laugh. Tell her that he loves her. Every day.

It didn’t matter he had only eight years, he understood very good that life is not easy.

Does not always bring what you want. That ugly things occur.

Once, a long time ago, he had a father. Now he had only mother, occasionally in rare moments.

There where times when he asked her something, but she didn’t reply, she just stared at the wall, empty and silent. Sometimes for hours.

He got accustomed to it.

He got accustomed to such a way of life. Mother was all he had, anyway.

He decided to go out with Fred.

Mom will be fine.

Yet, today is Christmas. Maybe, just maybe, Santa heard and fulfilled him one wish that he never, ever told anyone. He did not want to admit this wish even to himself.

But it was the wish from the deepest place in his small child heart.

All he wanted was Christmas morning full of laughter, favorite vanilla cookies mum used to bake. And a family.

He knew that it was probably too much to ask. So he returned to his book, to that what was real for him.

Red Fire Dragon. War in the story land, dragons and elfs…

And outside, it was snowing. And it was Christmas. And mom was still asleep.

Trigeminy303