Absolute silence. Not even the rough, distorted song on the radio can penetrate through the waves of my troubled mind. By now, the engine of my car has reached over 2,000 rotations per minute, so I switch to third gear and try to drive faster. I hear it roaring and fighting as I grab the stick shift knob and push it forward, to the right and forward again. Up goes the clutch and down goes the gas pedal. Blood starts pumping and small pearls of sweat break through my skin. It’s dark, there is no light ahead, but I don’t give a damn. I don’t care anymore. I stopped carrying long time ago.

Steady flames burn the concrete shell of my heart, slowly breaking it apart bit by bit, inch by inch. The steering wheel’s slipping under my sweaty hands. I feel like I’m losing control, but it feels so darn good. I don’t remember feeling so good in my entire life. Perhaps I’ve been trying to keep everything under control for too long. That used to keep me satisfied. But now that I’m finally learning to let go, I realize the lack of control pleasures me a lot more. It’s like having an orgasm without any sex at all.

My entire existence has been a lie. Still, it’s funny how this goes. As I enjoy my last moments on this earth, I reckon how empty and lonely my life has been. Deliberately, because I’ve silently accepted it, without fighting, without trying to change anything. But it’s too late now. I’ve got an entire highway in front of me and I know I won’t make it alive. In fact, knowing that death is waiting for me around the corner makes me go on, pushing the gas pedal to the floor, embracing the cold but peaceful feeling that comes over me. No pain inside, no trace of sadness left behind.

The engagement ring clenches on my finger, somehow remembering me I’m leaving something behind. Something… I wish I could remember what. Or who. But I can’t. This pain’s way to deep and too strong to remember anything right now. It’s so dark… Like a small humming bird, the night sets on my shoulder, slowly whispering to come and play, silently dragging and alluring me into its dark and nasty games. I don’t try to hold on. There’s no use. Got nothing to lose anyway. My mind completely snaps and my hands fall off the steering wheel. My leg is stuck on the gas. I can’t control myself anymore. As the circuits of my brain keep blocking, the car goes crazy.

There, there… It won’t be long now… My end is near. I’ve already come to terms with it. I don’t know why, but I keep remembering the lullaby my momma used to sing to me before I fell asleep. I suddenly find myself going back to my early years of troubled childhood. Stricken by incomplete memories, attacked by my very own inner self, I find the strength to cry. I used to feel weird about crying. Perhaps I thought crying is for the weak. Oh, how wrong I was! But wait! Maybe I am weak. But who gives a shit?! It’s so close to being over…

I always wondered what people would do with their last breath. Now I use mine to hum a song I don’t even know. Ironic, isn’t it? It has no lyrics, no logic and no substance, but I feel like I’ve been humming It my whole life. It’s the sweet song of sadness, of remorse and clustered pain, trying to get out.

My journey ends not so far ahead. I don’t have time to feel anything. The  shattered glass and the steel pierce through my flesh, destroying all that’s left of me, an empty shell that accommodated a sad soul for too long, without letting it out for one second. But now it’s finally free. But what’s the use…

Silence used to feel so good… But now, quiet scares me because it screams the truth right to my face. But it’s over. It’s finally over! As my body is picked piece by piece by the paramedics, the curtain falls over a stage soaked in sinful blood. My blood. Life goes on untouched, as if I never existed. Behind the silky bars of my new prison, I watch as my body is laid to rest, along with all my memories. For me, the party’s over. The lights are out and the doors are closing. Not even a ray of light will I see again. I’m left in darkness. Complete darkness…

2 gânduri despre „Darkness

  1. Pingback: Daily News About Life : A few links about Life - Monday, 18 May 2009 13:27

  2. În România nu-l vedem, deºi el existã. Dacã s-ar fi nãscut în Spania (sau în oricare altã þarã europeanã), l-am fi vãzut cu siguranþã la orice orã, fãcîndu-ºi cumpãrãturile, mergînd la spectacole, plimbîndu-se detaºat prin La Rambla, luînd metroul, trãind în comunitate, independent. Existînd pur ºi simplu. În România însã, mare parte a vieþii el ºi-o petrece izolat în casã, se uitã la televizor, citeºte ºi, dacã n-are pe cineva foarte apropiat care sã aibã grijã sã-l scoatã din cînd în cînd afarã (pentru cã e greu sã ieºi din bloc cînd n-ai nici lift, iar vecinii se împotrivesc cu patimã ºi urã montãrii unei rampe), îºi trece timpul ostoindu-ºi setea de socializare, privind pe dupã perdele „normalitatea” de afarã. Cît de normalã este însã o societate care îl ostracizeazã, atît printr-o lege chiþibuºarã, cît ºi printr-o atitudine ostentativã care, pe motiv cã nu corespunde majoritãþii, îl transformã într-un om invizibil?

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