RECVIEM ALTER EGO |Astorgos| Cap. I |

Se uita piedut in jurul sau, parca nestiind unde se afla, sentimentul disparu insa repede, se afla in aceeasi camera sumbra , cu pereti coscoviti avand culoarea unui sange inchegat. Tavanul era acoperit de panze de paianjeni din centrul caruia ieshea chinuit un bec ce emana o lumina palida si incomoda. Camera era practic goala.

O masa joasa rotunda pe care se puteau distinge urmele unor lovituri puternice, peste care statea aplecat deasupra foilor privindule pierdut… Parca era o fereastra, suficient d mare incat sa vada lumea care si-o crea dar suficient d mica incat sa nu-l vada inhabitantii ei.

Un scaun metalic, greu si ruginit cu un spatar lat, curbat care parka ii cuprindea spatele intr-un mod straniu, retinandu-l parca de la o eventuala dorinta de a se ridica.

O oglinda mare atarna p peretele din fata lui. Ciobita la colturile d sus, statea inclinata intr-un unghi nesigur… parca in orice moment ar fi putut sa cada , spargandu-se. Oglinda era pusa acolo cu un scop, daca era sa ridice capul cand devenea insuportabila pozitia d scris, se vedea in acea oglinda … revoltat de ceea ce vede avea sa vada, cobora din nou privirea catre foi, de fiecare data mai determinat, mai revoltat. O alta solutie ar fi fost sa se uite in sus… dar si asta ii era greu. Tavanul era impanzit cu adjectivele lumii celeilalte… cea reala, pe care el o renega si o substituia. Erau scrise cu un negru perfect, puse foarte aproape, incat abia se mai vedea albul murdar al tavanului. Uneori cand le privea avea impresia ca va fi tras in neant..

Era captiv aici, intre cei 4 pereti constrictori. Si-ar fi dorit sa cada unul … sa vada ce era de partea celalta…insa doar sa vada … ca nu ar fi avut curajul sa treaca prin usa nou deschisa… Pentru el era un chin groaznic pana si schimbarea cernelii din stilou. Ii era frica si se panica la gandul ca nu va fi de acelasi negru perfect. Pentru el cuvintrele legate in fraze reprezintau venele sufletului. El asta facea , isi transpunea existenta pe foi , cuvintele nu aveau sa moara niciodata… dar daca foile se pierd sau nu le va citi nimeni… Si atunci vedea cum in urma penelului… cerneala se usuca intr-un negru palid, mat… ca scrisul p o piatra funerara…

Deodata scoase un zvacnet chinuit shi tranti un pumn in masa. De aici urmele… Cu cealalta apasa pe piept… Inima ! Vrea sa se ridice. Nu poate. Durerea e prea mare. Incepu sa maseze, constient ca nu are nici un efect… Incepu sa hiperventileze…

Stranse ochii ca atunci cand ai ceva cumplit in fata si nu vrei sa vezi. Ii stranse atat d tare… Cuprinse scaunul puternic, pe maini se distingeau venele ce cresteau din ce in ce mai mult… pulsau din ce in ce mai tare, capatau o culoare tot mai sinistra. Greu, si parca sudat de podea, abia il urni. Cuprinse marginea mesei, se ridica incet… Totul se invarte, se clatina, peretii parca vor sa-l apuce, sa-t tranteasca jos, podeaua parca ii zambeste nerabdator, malefic… asteapta. In urechi incepu sa auda escaland intru-un tempo alert bataile din ce in ce mai puternice ale inimii.

Se intoarse spre geam, deshise ochii si-l vazu. Scaldat in lumina alba, pura, inocenta. Deodata liniste surda.

-- “Astorgossss ! “

Se prabuseste violent.



Iata si primul capitol...
By me :)


RECVIEM ALTER EGO | Begining



   

RECVIEM ALTER EGO | Begining

     Struck by a brief feeling of sickness he throws down the pen… rapidly puts his hands on top of the sheet of paper and softly cripples it… Why be sincere, nobody really cares about what he really feels, nobody wants to know what his dreams and hopes are. What they want is the satisfaction of seeing that he is what they expect him to be , to see him turn out as they wished… to exaggerate his actions and feelings like he is right now…
     One last time… steady feeling the curves of the pen … picks it up…

~ He writes from sadness, suspicion, frustration, anger and rage…
Bleeding out his soul, filling every pale white page
Holding the pencil like a sword of spiritual wrath
Driving his knowledge to a spiritual path.

Who’s he to speak of deviance and fanaticism?
When his every breath is covered cynicism
Building around him a wall of self perspective
Now he can only walk backwards in retrospective

Retracing the steps of his failed logic
Grimming at what once seemed nostalgic
Regretting the wrong choices made in a calculated life
Now opens a new chapter… the disgusting social strife ~

“Recviem alter ego”
…has begun.


     Shaking with anxiety drops the pen, takes long deep breaths…







E bine sa stai undeva in fundalul existei celorlalti... sa ii privesti...

No comment to my comment
...

What makes you want to know it all
Truth and lies both make you fall

You fake what you are, you feel what you fake
You live alone with the selfish image you make

You seek respect and admiration
You're like poverty's migration

You want kindness and trust
You seek words of rust

You freely say what you think
Rushing your thoughts like a blink

What you want is not what you need
Your just driven by common greed

Keep burrowing yourself your pretend world
Hoping for things you will not be able to hold

You think everyone is at your feet at the ground
I think you mistake where your feet are found...

But I could be wrong...

by me :)
(scrisa in timpul unui curs de fizica... plictiseala asta :) )

5 minutes


5 minutes


What... When... Why...
Shall be ...
What ... when ... why...
We shall see...

It's not for us to know.
It's for our soul to show.
It's not for us to predict.
It's all driven by instinct.

We commit,
Laugh or cry,
Fight or die,
Fall or fly.

We ign deceit,
Until we feel defeat.
We fight fear,
Until it's so near.

So ... we start to dream,
So... happy we seam...
Surrounded by a greater matter,
All it's going to do is shatter...

Why don't we just exceed ourselves ?
Escape the claustrophobia of our shells !
Fight for our happiness...
Instead we embrace sadness...

We fill ourselves with exaggeration,
We don't even fight the most familiar temptation !
We are fake and shallow.
Although we live in the 5 minutes that follow...

We expect the worst...
We hope for the best...
Thinking that emotions are just a test
Seeing that and not the simple rest.

We have to enjoy the beauty of having friends
Grow with the feeling it sends
Think, show and mean what we say
Wake up to the beauty of today

To see,
To believe.
To want,
To have .
To show,
To mean...
To feel,
To love,
To Eternity.



by me :)
One picture ... a thousand reasons to think about the suffering of so many... This picture just breaks my heart and soul...

How does it make you feel ?


I see pain
I see need
I see liars and thieves
Abuse power with greed

I had hope
I believed
But I'm beginning to think that I've been deceived...

Wither... die...



It's a fear that strikes us all
Inevitably making us fall

Seek one's help you would not dare
For this feeling is not to share

Not seeking a friendly solution
For a shattered soul ... it's just pollution

There is no hope ... no going back
One last grip ... even that you lack

It's the verge of desperation
It's madness's incantation

You look up, at the gray sky
You never stop to ask yourself why

All the answers point that you've done wrong
Your soul is closed, even to the purest song

Inside you wither... you die...


by me :)