It has been a whole years since my exile. Three hundred and sixty five days. It is a cold land. Where people don't see much.
I've been having the most wretched dreams, Isaacs. Ever since I was a mere child, I've dreamed that I am fighting the world of the undead. Not rotting bodies. But souless ones. They walked among us, blank black eyes. You could see that their soul was gone. It has only now dawned on me that my worst dreams have come true. Here, in this cold land I see them. Walking aimlessly, from home to work, from work to the gym, from the gym home. And repeat till their bodies fall apart. I try to speak to these people and they can't hear me. I feel lost.
I have not fallen from grace. Not yet. I have merely refused to compromise. To settle for mediocrity. I can see these people, their potential. Their subconscious. They choose to ignore it and I can't understand why. Why would you chose to be less than what you can be? They have the power to overthrow the world! To make true, everlasting, change. But they CHOOSE not to! They use words without giving it any weight or meaning. What is love? What is a home? What is a friend? These words are uses with not one thought of responsibility!
It has be 12 months since I left, Isaacs. And I am not good. Nor am I bad. I have peered deep inside myself and took out all the broken parts and threw them away. I am now looking for pieces to replace them. It is quite a task to find such pieces because they are not just simply made now a days. I have spent all this time avoiding this problem that I have found myself in an era where they are made for the sake of quantity and not quality. These things I wish to have in my heart, they are not simple to come by. When I say I want a love, I don't mean a fuck. When I say I want a home, I don't mean a house. And when I say I want a friend... Oh Isaacs! Brother! I want a true friend!
It has been fifty two weeks and I have yet to make a friend. I feel lonely and this loneliness consumes me. I make beautiful things out of it, I do. But beauty is not all in this world. I lost my equilibrium. There must be balance in your heart, and mine is gone. I remember when I had a friend. Friends actually. Who would stop all they are doing to come to my aid. And I did the same for them. I came by the oddest of things in this land. I found that people just don't want to be friends anymore. They feel the weight of the responsibility to be too much. The effort to be too much. When you try to assist them they attack you as if you are trying to hurt them! People here are odd indeed.
I am a big creature roaming the vast seas. They catch a glimpse of me from time to time. They don't see me, though. They hear me. The creatures from above. They hear my song at fifty two hertz. My cry. But my own people, they can't hear me. My sound is too low. My love comes in circles while theirs comes in squares. My heart is stupid and new and they try to make me feel ashamed of my love but I never will be.
Should I stop, Isaacs? Should I compromise? Should I change? I don't want to... I don't know if I can. But I don't want to be alone anymore.
It has been eight thousand, seven hundred and sixty five hours since my exile. In three minutes the clock will strike midnight and a new year will begin. What should I be this year? Or who?
Thirty one million, five hundred fifty five thousand, nine hundred twenty six second. And I wish someone would see me...
No comments:
Post a Comment