2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43
Keep me warm on this crosswalk.
The illuminated side of the house and the wind in your face, the noise of the road, a little discomfort in tired legs, and now life seems so real at this moment that you want to stop time and postpone the next day a little, stay in this fearful ignorance, cross the road in spite of the left and to the right. I feel the chill of my ignorance blowing from tomorrow, and it becomes so scary. How could I admit into my head, intoxicated by the past, thoughts that tomorrow will bring me peace? Right now, I am trying to postpone my anxiety, I am busy with this right now, I am writing and writing, and it seems to me that the unreality of this world becomes at this moment predictable, that I can leave the cafe and go the same way home. So it seemed to me, and I believe with all my might in my seeming unreality.
This is a complete fearsome fuck.
I squeeze my fingers in tension.
Once I saw a brave girl who, walking down the street, stopped and screamed with all her might, then smiled and walked on. It was wonderful. Hey, there is someone here, she screamed then, and no one, you hear, no one answered her. Now I scream, like her, ceaselessly, only inside myself, and just like her, I do not hear an answer, only an ironic smile on my face. Wonderful? Yes, perhaps that's fine.
Being a psychologist is like seeing ghosts when no one sees them. This is a completely crazy story of life and death of despair to be left alone on the planet of lonely, tormented by endless human contacts. Talking to the ghosts of the mental life of other people and your life is not an oddity, it is a given of your ability to hear voices in complete silence. This means that I definitely choose the position of loneliness and misunderstanding, this is the choice of a screaming person, this is a sign of a healthy illness.
She screamed for a reason, at least I caught in this scream something that looked into my eyes with a fearful look and awakened me to life, to a terrible part of my life. And yes, that's great.
This dive has been going on for a long time, I slowly fall down in the water column, getting denser and denser, dark, cold, scary, disgusting from the realization of the proximity of death, a lot of stress of the killed in the pressing water column, and impenetrable darkness. And even here this cry is heard, as if salvation is near, and at the moment of my last breath I will catch the feeling of approaching salvation, and what will happen after losing my consciousness is a completely different story.
This elusive tense street revolves around me, haunts me with its markings, and wants to snuggle up to me with all its cover, but I walk perpendicular to it, as if it is necessary, as if in this plane I will not feel its trampled and worn-out history pain and destruction. The one who builds roads sets the angle of view and owns the horizon of understanding. I am like a nomad in the labyrinth of strangers dear, I can only shout, only call for help the exit, which is hiding somewhere where I have not been for a long time.
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