Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts


Feeling analysis

Rushing from one goal to another, from one decision to another, you may find an empty reflection in the mirror, a strange yourself, disconnected from everything that once was making you smile. Gathering emotional baggage can be a burden once you discover that there is nobody to help you carrying the weight. Just trying to sort out old experiences it will take a while, and by the time you manage to toss away painful memories, you will wake up one morning to find yourself alone, with a bunch of lovable souvenirs, disappointingly fewer than you expected. 
Once you get rid of the noise produced by the dark and despair in your life, you may want to get a grasp of what happiness looks like. To enhance the clarity of a lost shared love, you might be tempted to roll bottles under the bed, while you roll over night butterflies in your bed, or to race with time to see who can smoke more ephemeral cigarettes of passion. But it is only the night who can become your ally, capable of wrapping everything in bubble plastic bags, offering comfort and shelter.  In the heavy velvet of silence you will rediscover the edges of your dreams and possible solutions to bring them back to the day light of reality.
The search for the right pattern to fit into the perfect image might squeeze tears and sighs, until one day you will reach the one that identifies entirely to your expectations. In this phase of this deep heart scan it is utterly easy to mirror back and forth all your life and draw a genuine spark in your eyes. The wisest action would be to make a backup of this state of soul and hide it deep inside our hearts, but we never do it, therefore we end up writing the preface of the same story over and over again, constantly.  


Blurred morning

Harassing sounds are coming out from the alarm clock. He strikes his hand and knocks it down the floor.  Stupid decision to get drunk last night: although being a grown up man, he still sneaks in the middle of party, mixing different drinks, just like a teenager. The result is always the same: awful headache lasting the entire day.
The sun bursting through the worn out shutter is burning the view of his tired eyes. He crawls out of bed, trying to get to the bathroom door, but his feet stumble upon the ashtray filled up with half smoked cigarettes. Splashing cold water feels like thousands of cold needles punching his face. No need to look in the mirror, he is aware of the unbearable reflection of his face after such night.
If only they had not fought last night... He knows the bitterness of the grey clouds following a quarrel, but there is nothing to ease the sorrow. All he wants to do now is to see her and apologize, although he does not remember exactly what to apologize for, the reason of the throwing heavy words at each other is skipping his mind now.
He puts on some clothes and leaves the flat quickly. At the first floor, he is prepared to meet nosy Miss Flemming, who is always ready to detect any movement on the stairs and to appear as natural as possible in the door frame. But this morning, instead of old flat door, there is a shiny advertising announcing the opening of Dr. Duncan’s stomatological cabinet. So it is true that in this fast expanding city, things do grow up after night.
The familiar way to the tram stop is marked by other small differences, but he blames on the terrible hangover becoming more and more intolerable. As he approaches the tram stop, he realizes there is not a tram stop anyway, but an underground station. He is completely amazed how he could not see that underground station before, he walks on this road everyday, takes the same tram number 7 everyday, in the same direction and he has never noticed an underground station nearby. A young fellow wearing a strange cap and headphones is passing by. He stops him rapidly and asks about the tram station. “The only way to get to city centre is this underground line. There is no tram here”, replies the stranger, visibly annoyed. The answer takes him by surprise, and he is not even conscious of his moves while standing on the escalators going down in the underground station, as in the huge mouth of an ogre. After a short trip and a couple of minutes of wandering around the streets, his mind is finally peaceful as he can recognize the well known blue shade of the house. Suddenly another anxiety feeling captures his heart: “what is he going to say to her? What is she going to say? Moreover, she will see him in this miserable state of hangover. Why did he behave so foolish a night before? Why?”
Well, now, he is just focusing to pull his body up the stairs to her flat. He feels so feeble and drained of power. As a rewarding prize, at the end of stairs, the buzzer is visible. He does not hesitate to push it and waits impatient for her to open the door. But the biggest shock of the morning is yet to come: in front of him is standing a little blonde girl, a perfect miniature copy of his Christine. He is so overwhelmed by this encounter that he can just mumble few words: “Where is Christine?”  
Hearing these words, the little girl rushes back into the flat, fast as lightning. His mind is scattered into the bizarre events of the morning and cannot understand anything, all seems like a sour joke to him. After few seconds, a housekeeper is showing up, looking eager to find out who he is. Again, his brain is blocked and his tongue gets numb while whispering: “Where is Christine?”  The housekeeper’s reaction is similar to the little girl's, becoming pale and anxious to close to the door, not before answering his question: “Miss Christine is not here. She died five years ago.”
This time the joke has gone too far and its cruelty reaches the paroxysm as his eyes roll back in his head, his heart fails pumping and his legs are clumping over stairs, almost falling. The world stands still for a couple of minutes, reality is playing tricks and fragments of faint images are mixing in a lethal cocktail.
All he wants now is to find a taxi, to go home, to hide from this upside down world, hoping he will wake up from this nightmare. He is limping down the stairs, crosses the street, strangely empty for this hour of day. But in the perfect reflection of the window shop next to taxi stand lays the most outrageous revelation of the morning. An old man with tangled white hair covering hypnotizing psychotic eyes is staring back at him… 



Rising hopes on waves’ slopes, collecting foam from your dreams, swing along the sea with your ignorant heart, fall into never known land, taste the salt on your lips and make another golden wish. Learn the beat of your soul, mumble your favorite song, gather around you the persons you love. Rethink, repeat from step one. 


happiness pill

Moving from one feeling box to another, you can only think how to capture better the sensation you had during that highlight. Performing a surgery on your heart without taking an anesthetic before, it can lead to deep serious depression. To avoid the side effects, we strongly recommend the proximity of a caring lovely person who can relief the stress you have been dealing with lately. We do not take responsibility for scattered strange situation as falling in love or growing attached. We do advise, though, lack of consciousness and purchasing a big pair of scissors to make sure there are no strings attached. In case of emergency, please, contact an ex- boyfriend/ girlfriend who can provide necessary comforting services. By all means, if the symptoms persist, reconsider carefully your behavior and take immediate actions as ceasing offering your heart to deceitful persons.