Category Archives: Emotions

The flute and life

He sat next to her and played his flute. Those sad tunes still make her shiver after all this time. For a fleeting moment when he looked at her she seemed like the person he’s known all those years ago. He felt close to her, connected, and it made him feel safe. 

It quickly passed though, and the sorrow he’s known for a while now took her over again. He played the tunes he knew hoping to reach into her again.

He missed her. He missed how she would be all bubbly in the morning. He missed when they would chase each other around the house, laughing like two overgrown kids not noticing all the bewildered looks they would get. He missed the times when they would talk about their feelings without fearing all the bottled up anger. 

He only felt weak when he was alone, and that’s why he was always terrified. He did not want to disappear into the colors of the background like all the others did. But in his loneliness he already has. 

Had he the power to give her life again from what little he had he gladly would. It would all be worth it, to make what little he had really matter. He just wanted to make her wild again, make her feel alive again, and maybe – along the way – she’s be happy again. 

And it would all be worth it. 

He played his flute and she lay her head on his shoulder. It was heavy with all the weight of the world she carries on her mind. She sighed, tired and weak, and he cried, tired and weak. 

He pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear. 

And he played his flute, as she went to sleep. 


The flip of a coin

They sat silently trying to look anywhere except at each other. The flowers were dying. The sickly sweet hunger was spreading slowly but surly across the ground, inching closer to our feet dipped in the cool springs that have gathered around us.

Has it been decades or centuries? I wouldn’t really know. We’ve been built up and broken down time and time. We’ve been there for each other, angry at each other, we’ve known love and hate and what it is like to feel both at the same time.

I flip the coin for the millionth time, hoping this is the time I finally get a third outcome, something you and I can rally behind. You smile sadly at me, I’ve always been your favorite idiot after all.

Remember when we were idiots roaming the streets in search of dreams that grew on trees we couldn’t climb? Back then, we threw the coin and it landed on a million different outcomes, and we felt we wanted more. Today, the coin has only one face, and we hate it.

We breathe loudly, pretend to be free, when our wings of dreams have been clipped angrily and fed to their desperate, hungry hounds. I want to think of something witty to say, something that will melt the ice that’s taken over your soul, but words slip through the cracks they’ve left in me.

But if I can’t take your pain away, then I have truly become useless. If I can’t paint you dreams like before, then I have truly lost. If I can’t fight anymore, then I have truly fallen.

The hunger creeps closer to us, ready to consume what little we have left. We’ve lost the best of us to them but now they are after the worst in us. They’ve cut down the trees and trampled on the dreams, as they laughed at us as we scrambled across trying to gather what little bits remained of the grand dreams.

It’s too late to dream, but way way too early to be consumed. My eyes give up the search, and just turn back to you. Let their hunger creep up on us, as long as we have each other, they will never know how to consume us.

And we may yet find another way.


Numb emotions

20150806_225151It has all culminated into utter confusion. There was a time when things were clearer, when they made sense, when there was more to life than waking up and going to bed. I tried to remember when exactly did life, and everything that comes with it, slip between my fingers. I don’t even know that.

I know other things though. I know that I’m being dragged through life, while friends are dragged to death. I know that I want to read, but I don’t know what the book is about. I know that the dreams and nightmares are here to stay, and that I will never make peace with them no matter how hard I or they try. I know that every other day I need to cross one more name off the list, and pretend I can just be grateful for the time I had with them. I know I’m not grateful, I know I will never be, and I know I’m sick of settling for scraps in my search for inner peace. I know that no matter how hard I try, those seeds I bought will not flower here.

In fact, I don’t even know if I’m happy or not. I’m not sure if I’m hopeful or not. I literally cannot identify emotions properly anymore and it scares me. I like to think I’m able to see the good in the bad, that I am able to empathize with those on the other side. I like to think that every time I fall I will get up. But the truth is I don’t know what is good and what is bad. I don’t know which side I’m on in the first place. I don’t know what happens when I have that fall that’s impossible to get up from. It’s like feeling uncomfortably numb.

Today, I sat down to write notes on everyone I would like to be. Only then did I realize that I wanted to be a perfume. I would be inconsistent, persistent, and non-existent. I would be unbound by emotions, and free to not try to relate. Or I can be lemon ice cream, with that fun sugary bitter zest that tingles the spine. I sat back and crumbled the empty paper into the trash, worn out by relating emotions to people.

Perhaps there’s beauty in the simple things – just enough to get us through the day by day struggle and make us feel just a little bit more alive. Now if only I could still find those simple things…