Rope's perspective

(Can be read as continuation to ‘Earth’s sweet embrace’)

To want to save someone so badly that you surrender yourself to their darkness.

The depth of this well is not enough for her to find what she’s been looking for. How many more piles of dirt will she embrace before realizing they’re never going to suffice? Looking at her beautifully unhopeful companion, the rope shrugs. Salvation is not something you can convince one into. However, it is a job as useless as any other.

If peace is what she seeks, why not pursue it on the peak of a mountain? And if it’s solitude she aches for, why the lows and not the heights? Poor soul, peaceful and lonely you can be up there too. The delicate kiss of light and the shuddering bite of darkness are equally mortal. If only she’d let my body against hers, I’d gently convince her to accept my tremble.

Minutes became hours to only turn into days and then months. She came to trust me, letting me spend nights resting on her neck. Her body was mine and yet it was the soul I wanted her to yield. Why does she resist it? Could she have guessed the words of love I whispered in her ear were just a wish? All I want is for her smile to stop being sad. She has manipulated me into believing I could make her happy. However, all my efforts have been in vain. Her sad smile I have only succeeded in turning wry, at times even flippant. What does she want of me, crawl on my knees asking for forgiveness for who I am or whom I’m never going to be? Why seek my company at all then? I told her the image of mine she saw was not truthful. Yet, she insisted on telling me her secrets, letting me glimpse into the hidden places of her being. She told me power was important to her and that’s what I believed, she wanted the power over me. ‘That’s what I’ll never give you’, I told her. ‘But you didn’t let me finish, I meant…’, she continued. Silently waiting for her words to materialize, I let her gaze drown into mine. ‘Never mind’, she said looking away.

Special is what she thinks of herself. The thoughts, the suffering, the loneliness, like they’re all for her to feel only. I’ve been there a thousand times. Years I have over her and no flippant smiles would belittle who I know I am. Handfuls of necks like hers have begged me to release them into eternity. I look at her, resting, skin against damp walls.

Suddenly, I see her moving towards me. Her icy hands touch I feel. Embracing me, I sense her body tremble against mine. She has given in. I have persuaded her into abandoning the darkness of her well. Up she takes us. One steady move after another, the light comes closer. Jumping onto the ground, I see her eyes are still closed. Letting me lay next to my other half, she sighs and plunges back into darkness. Perhaps that’s what is best for both of us.

Hunger, Dust and Soups

Photo by: Pavel Gorczyca

Time has come to write a cheerful post.

With my headphones on, I take a sip of San Pellegrino enhanced with some slices of lemon. The pretentious sparkling water is part of the rewarding myself plan which I’ve conjured some hours ago, while doing groceries. And the lemon? Well, it is supposed to make me feel better about my disastrous eating regimen lately.

Looking through the window, I see a sunny Bucharest. The city is packed these days. All these people running here and there to desperately check off items on their Easter shopping lists…  I’d much rather stay at home, which I’ve been partly successful at doing. I say ‘partly’ because the very first days after my returning from the Europeans in Rhodes were crazy. All those people congratulating me, an interview here, an interview there, my phone buzzing all the time- it was dizzying.

Now that the dust has settled a bit, I can finally process everything. Looking around, I see that the dust has settled on my working desk too; on the trophies which lie around, mostly on the floor, dreaming of a nice shelf; on the tiles my steps are taking me to on trips from one room to another… I’d better do some cleaning soon. Perhaps it was smarter doing it before attempting to do the same with my thoughts and feelings. One step at a time though. Today I’m content with cooking for myself for the first time since I’ve returned. It was nothing fancy, just a soup, which was enjoyable but not particularly satiating. My stomach is already demanding food again. It can wait. Afterall, we eat to live, not the other way around they say. Hm, a stew would still be nice.

Back to the thoughts and feelings department now. This medal which has fallen upon me is the first individual continental one in my life. To quote the press, it is the biggest achievement of my career so far. Despite them getting wrong various, at times even most of the details about me, this one- they got right. They all expected me to be filled over the top with joy, inspiration and pride. I even almost felt those things at times, almost. However, it is only hunger that possesses me, in all senses. Even my cat throws worried glances at me. I guess my stomach must be on some violent protest. God bless these headphones! I can cold-bloodedly ignore the protests of masses in a similar fashion to the one ruling parties do in too many parts of the world these days. Interesting, what types of headphones do they use?

Now that we’re past these parentheses, let’s recalibrate our focus on what’s important here- thoughts. Or was it feelings? They seem to have merged lately. Anyhow, it is time to get to the bottom of them. Let’s pick it from that hunger feeling. The idea is that I felt happy for maybe ten minutes and then, there was nothing. I imagined it to be different. Of course, I don’t claim that the attention I was given by the press and officials, multiplied by my friends’ and family’s eyes sparkling with joy and pride left me cold. It was enjoyable, but unsatiating, just like my soup. At least my stomach knows what it wants- a second course, maybe even some dessert. And I, what more could I possibly want?