this fire is out of control.

Why is it? Why is it that I’m always so desperately searching? What am I searching for anyway? I look right at your eyes, inpatient for an answer, because I believe it’s you, something in me points right towards your direction but your eyes look so void; they repel me. They call out: “there is nothing here you’ll want” but I know there is, I know there is something you have to offer that I necessitate. I wish I could call you out on it, just stand in front of you and say: “be honest to yourself for a second and let me in” but I can’t. There are more than a hundred layers of brick walls between us and screaming does no good. Soon enough I will find a way of getting this message across, maybe in a bottle like a couple of centuries ago or just a paper airplane.

We can work our conditions out; make an agreement, a cost-benefit relationship. I need you, and I’m currently knocking at your door but if there is no answer, there is only so much I can wait. I can see from the tip of my eye that you’re glancing from the edge of the window, debating whether to allow me to come in or not. I believe you’re scared she might hear us, don’t be afraid because she is in the kitchen, making dinner and putting the table for two. I’m here, now, right at this moment and fuel is burning inside me and a fire is rapidly spreading across my whole body. Just say something.

.....sshhhhh.....

The larvae that turn into frogs, the frogs that turn into princes, the caterpillars that turn into butterflies, the babies that turn into old, crippled, human beings, all the species are in constant movement and change; there’s no security whatsoever in what you have or what you are now.

Some days I just desire a break: hours where the clock needle stops turning right, hours in which all of these parallel universes cease to exist. I don’t want to be conscious of time, or my loss of it. I don’t want to have to meet expectations all the time and having to read theories and philosophies on life as to apply them to my own and then when I’m older look back and say: “I did well”. It’s a constant weight that we carry in our shoulders, that of life. I’m not taking its merit of it being beautiful, I’ll give that to her (she’s definitely a girl, with all of her mood swings, ups and downs) but what we all have to admit, is that she’s tiresome.

Us human beings should be given a paralyzed world once a month, for an x amount of time, we should be brainwashed so that we are free of preoccupation and despair. Just do what we please without consequences, be given what we want without asking anything back, being able to stand on our own and not depend on others but wanting others to be part of our happiness, having to go nowhere but at the same time being everywhere, a span of time where pleasure and balance make love. And we shall remember that, and that break should be our force to go on, our periodic oasis.