The Unsaid

Only moments ago I was in the shower, and it seemed as though the ideas were endless. There were so many things that I told myself would be interesting to say, to finally reveal and yet here I am, choking.

Things are too easily erased. It's even quite a lazy movement, the only thing necessary being my one finger to hold down the key and watch as everything goes back to blank, the same as it had been when the page was first opened. Trying to put in too much thought is like not trying at all. It just will not come out right and so the best one can hope for is that everything flows out naturally and in a manner that seems coherent enough to be understandable. If it isn't, well... there isn't much to be done about it. What has been said is no longer desirable in the world of the unsaid.

The world has been feeling pretty surreal recently. It's as though nothing matters and yet it matters so much that the outcome of every feeling is amplified into an outright avalanche of overreactions and sadness. Sleep turns into a luxury and concentration seems like something that once existed but that has now disappeared so that the world feels perpetually wrong, strange and even foreign, like a place meant for others and not for me. The world in which I find myself is a lonely one. The time to think about what I was, am, and could be however is abundant, and yet I don't feel like I am the presence. An instant without a setting to give it clarity, that is my location.

I was invited to go hiking in the flat city neighbour to my own, and I turned it down. The reasons still feel so wrong, I can't help but constantly think about what could have been, what that timeless instant could've been, what it wasn't. The spontaneity with which it was presented was attracting, soothing even because of the lock and chain that I seemed to have placed around myself to keep from straying away from the comfort of which I am already somewhat enjoying.

I am lost, and do not understand why I stick to this path although I do not see it bringing me the answers to any questions.

Most days, I wish that I could be more like my beloved Cow who is not afraid to stray and just let her feet do the thinking and wander. When I think back to how I thought I was no more than a few years ago, I remember thinking, "curious, easy-go-lucky, slightly full of herself yet so uncertain at the same time". When I think now, there is nothing but anxiety. There are things that I would like to do, people that I would love to be inspired by, friendships that I would like to strengthen and yet not one of these roads has begun. Stuck in a rut of wondering "who is this person that I dare call "me" and at the same time avoiding to answer that very same question, I feel motionless and lost.

However, even in my seemingly paralyzed state, I see people that intrigue me, people who's way of being makes me feel awake and also revives the curiosity that I've been trying to keep stuffed in the closet.

Decisions are difficult to make. The fact that the statement is obvious, however, brings no consolation. In deciding to act, a decision is made, as is when choosing not to. Either will almost definetly have an eternal consequence and further mold ones existence. Not knowing what the finished product is to look like is what makes it difficult.

Immobility caused by the fear of pain that will follow the decision that seems to feel right and yet so very wrong at the same time... I fear his pain. I fear his pain. I fear his pain. I fear his pain... And yet every now and again, I find myself blaming him for how I am, as though it is his fault that I am not meeting new people and not living the way I feel I would like to. It's unfair of me to do so and I am aware of that, but I am an imperfect being and there are days when I simply cannot help it, just as I cannot help my envious nature.

...I close my eyes as though to sleep and then there I am, alone at the peak of a mountain or underwater in the middle of an ocean or even flying through a lush forest, free to just exist without having to live. There, in that timeless instant, I am or am not, was or was not, will or will not be but I don't have to.

I need to breathe.

"Feather?"

"Yes?"

I can see her, staring at me. She looks like me, yet at the same doesn't.

"We should go hiking."

"Perhaps."

-Feather

Sloth

Sitting on the metro that day, bored out of mind, as usual, I spent a lot of the time with my eyes fixated at the moving wall behind the glass. Almost immovable from that which had them so mesmerized, I could not help but create images in my head of separate worlds to which lead all these other tunnels which the metro did not take. It would have been so interesting, or at least it seemed that way to me. Doing the same ride every day, more than once a day was enough to make you really wish that something interesting would happen other than the constant pulling of the emergency break and the ever incessant messages of incidents slowing down the pre-established flow of the colourful lines.

Just as a soft and rather enjoyable song started to play in my ears, we arrived at a station where many people embarked. Curiosity as to the new arrivals tore my gaze from the window as I marveled at the storm of people that squeezed into the limited space in front of me.

It was only once they had settled that I noticed the girl sitting to the right of me, although how I managed to see her through the mass of people was quite inexplicable. She was strange, differently dressed, seemingly living in a completely different world due to some magical substance, and her mouth was gaping.

I stared for a while, until I felt my annoyance growing. It was strange to me that she would not only dress to stand out but also show off this strange way of being. At least close your mouth. It really was all I could think of. And then, the potential entertainment this situation could bring me surfaced in my mind and a tiny smile played across my lips.

After a moment of inner turmoil, I decided that my course of action would most likely cause more good than bad and pulled a notebook and pen out of my bag. Drawing childishly I couldn't help but feel slightly amused. When the fly appeared on my paper, I attempted to tame my smile and sent it off. I watched almost happily as it flew over to her. How she didn't see it coming, I have absolutely no idea, but it was better this way. The fly took aim and flew directly into her mouth causing her to cough incessantly.

As if nothing, I returned the items to my bag and listened to her choke. I hadn't expected it to affect her so seriously, but it would have been too much work for me to take it out. She was making such horrible noises that a young woman pulled the emergency break in a panic. Talk about interesting...

-Mango

Spiraling

The downward pull
The shortened breath
The cheek graced
By a kiss of death

Falling, dropping
Out of nowhere
Into nothing
Out of mind
Out of heart
Out of time

Screaming silently
Smiling menacingly
Two pieces fight
To the sweet wooden box.


-Mango

For a Kiwi

Now that the distance is set
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Do you think about me too?

The weakness that I feel
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Do you feel weakness too?

You are always happy and smiling
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Do you imagine me happy and smiling too?

Someone let the distance grow
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Have you noticed it too?

When it's time to point the finger
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Will you point it at me too?

Feeling like the pain is overwhelming
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Do you want to hurt me too?

Dealing with a fear of being unsatisfactory
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder
Do you think me unsatisfactory too?

Staring at you in awe and admiration
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Do you feel admiration for me too?

Pride is seldom felt, but when it is
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Are you proud of me too?

This damage feels irreparable
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder
Did you feel the breaking too?

Over-thinking can lead to one's downfall
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Do you believe me crazy too?

When I wonder who you've become
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Do you think you've lost me too?

When I look back at what we once were
I wonder if you wonder
I wonder,
Do you feel like crying too?

-Mango

A Thought

I never thought it was possible to have so much ugly bottled into one person, but then again, I guess I'm big enough to fit it all.

- Mango

Essentially Falling

In the face of empty pages
Graced with wordless expressions
Sighing, crying hopeless sobs
I sit here in my hurt.

Forgetting, they say, gets easier.

Motionless fingers stay afloat
In a space that changes faces
Wishing to rid the dark emotions
Spilling blood of sorrow in the dirt.

Eventually, every winner has to lose.

Sleepless eyes show the shadows
Of twitching bodies in the night
Wish for rest, find the rest
In the next endless tomorrow.

We fight and fight but everyone falls.

The relativity of time
In a world where love means pain
Shines light upon the fact that
There is not shortened time to borrow.

With time...

Unanswered words on small machines
Photos viewed with hardened anxiety
Faces scarred with contrary intentions
Cut out the roads we needed to follow.

Every winner has to lose, fight and fall, but at least they say that forgetting gets easier with time.

- Mango

The Calm Before the Storm

It's a truly terrible feeling, really. I'm torn again, so torn that I can't think straight. My thoughts are crooked words that all together make no sense. They are nonsense things describing everything I want but that all together create a horrendously disastrous picture, ugly in essence, content and colour.

I see in my mind what Kida sees, everyone's overall happiness, their acceptance in my past and current decisions, but I also see something dark and troubling that grabs with greedy hands at the illusion of near perfection that she had created of our life. That thing, that monster, is the thing that keeps me up at night, that wakes me up during dreamless sleep with a horrible pain in my body. During the day, my face is blank. Staring into empty spaces I think of what could be, what should be, and what I want. I hear the voices of different opinions, and as the pros and cons battle it out in my mind, outside I slowly fade. From fear of unfair and uneducated judgement of the matter, I've resorted to keeping all details of all happenings inside. They burn me and they hurt me, but at least the thoughts of others aren't adding fuel to the fire.

This fearful little loathesome coward that I am is afraid of making the wrong decision and causing indescribable pain to someone whom I care so much about. A feather is supposed to be gentle, light, soft, caressing, and any possible description of the like... I am crisp, dark, sharp-edged and ridiculously untouchable. I scratch holes in hearts with nothing more than indecisiveness as a motive and no matter how much it tears me apart, the only thing visible is the pain that I'm causing them.

Uglyness is all I see in the tear stains on my face that's become progressively more pale by day. Sick, I sicken myself. Every inch of my skin tingles with the sickening sensation of being someone that tries to bring love but who instead brings only an illusion that hides unmentionable torment.

I make him sick.

I make him not want to eat.

I make him throw up.

Kida wouldn't do this, she'd do the right thing, always the thing that people enjoy, expect and respect. I do only the opposite, "what I want to do", despite what everyone says.

I hate myself.

-Feather.