Up high and down below

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I am in love. With a thought, an abstract, a fragment of my imagination. I want it very dearly. I keep visiting the basement in the back of my deepest thoughts to try and find it again. But the thought is not always there. It is my thought. It belongs to me. Yet, it obeys me not. Like an independent other being, it comes about whenever it wishes to, and until then, I am left here, on the verge of loneliness. Wishing, waiting, and simply procrastinating. Until you, yes, you, decide to come here again. Then I will see your face and quit staring at this twinkling straight black vertical line. Until you come about again…

In my efforts to feel that strange kind of feeling, that I felt but only once before, I take on the quest of all-nighters. I felt it before for someone who is no more than a no one for me today. I think even the thought of this someone has disappeared somewhere along the way, and as I feel it once again for you, I pray it won`t be the same.

I am waiting for that beautiful and bright part of you to rise from the deep furious waters of the East. I saw it do so before, and what a sight that was. The waves, intertwined, flowed about, inside and outside themselves. The flow was all so intense that the sky-blue of the waves did become the actual sky as it rose up to the clouds like tiny needles.  You were rain flowing upwards in the break of dawn. When I saw that part of you, it was as if earth sent rain to the heavens in the middle of Somalia. It is but unimaginable what the truth is, it is but impossible, in fact. How can the mermaid feel love for a human who wishes not her flesh? How can the robot cry while the man stands up with a poker face at the murder scene? How?

The differences we have are all too noticeable, the similarities, just as well. And it is just like hell that we bring utter frustration and disappointment to our dull conversations while I trust you, and you trust me, but we do not trust us.

The passing by of the days and the distance keeps us apart, while you become bored I am ever more stressed, me the subject of your analysis, and you, the subject of my forfeit and foregone hope which was to rise again, but came to a steady drop. I remember the days when I was your most intriguing patient and I, a wild airy spirit which was never tamed, chose to surrender to your so engaging powers, but do remember, I have chosen to surrender.

Your kindness was not unpaid for, I had to strip for you, peel of the many layers of elements that this heavy weighted and yet, light, body holds. From where I am standing I see you on a pedestal, among many weaklings, all confused like black dirty roaches in the dark. You, disengaged in a strange accordance of movements, try not to step upon them, although it is so tempting at times. You try to pull me down from the air, me, my pride and my arrogance; although you are golden you wear this grey ugly mask in an attempt to hide all the beauty that you have inside. You hand me a mask too though so vain I am, I wouldn’t know how to fit something so grotesque in my tiny fragile face. This is why we have argued, hidden by the label of passion we started being more aggressive towards one another, I want to take you up where the feathers and the pigments colours the world and you want to bring me down to where things are ugly and helpless and sad, but real.

I Shan`t come down-It is all very ugly, helpless and sad, though real, just as we are to become if we are to be where you are. At least then, we will be shinning under the dirt, but the filth is going to take over our soul and devalue it. We will have no beauty to enlighten the world, and all will be dark. We, we will be dark.



“I Shan`t come up-It is all very beautiful, rich and fulfilling, but it is no more than an illusion. And so an illusion we are to become if we go up to the heights, and the rats will be always cursing against us, and deprived and silent we must then become, so we will never be able to display the beauty of our souls to the world, for they will hate us for what we are and blind themselves from the light we bring.”



And in order to fulfil our choices, we do depart. A tear, falls like raging thunder. A hand waves from down there goodbye.



You are my robot, my electron, my doctor, my truth. It is but a pity, that you are just a passenger in my train of thought.


*Dedicated to someone I hold very dear, You know who you are*