I can feel the emotions boiling up inside my chest, and tears in the back of my throat. Every inch of my body feel like screaming. My mind keep trying to unzip my skin and so I can crawl out of it, leaving all the unpleasantness behind. All of these brings me back home; I've been having these urges and desires of wanting to feel the cool, warm air while feeling the wind blowing through my hair and feeling the inspirations flowing through me; like a breath of fresh air, while I sit on my bed in my little red bedroom. I closed my eyes and I kept wishing to be back home. Call me naïve, because yes I am seeking for the sparks that can creates magic, in this mundane world. And because back home, I have created a small sparks that creates magic. All I created it for myself, back home, in my small red bedroom. But I have no luck yet creating nor can I find a magic or a spark as strong as the one that I've been creating in my tiny space.
I can feel my brain hurting, as if wanting to get out of the cranium for a breath of fresh air and never go back inside.
I can feel there is something, like a gigantic block in my chest. Something heavy. Something that wasn't there.
Very strange, don't you think, how the chemical in my brain that has went awry (or going to), can caused so much destruction?
I want to scream so loud even the sky can hear the echo.
I want to scream so loud even the deepest part of the earth can hear it.
So listen, carefully, to the howling sound my silence are creating.
So listen, to the point where your ear drums bleeds.
So listen, until you're disconnected from the noise of reality, just you and an abysmal silence.
Listen and watch me drift away into a long dream, because
I sleep to wash the pain away, only to wake up a couple of days- maybe weeks- maybe months, later finding the pain staring me in the eye, where I am forced to face it instead of trying to make it disappear.
Strange, isn't it, how something so feisty and strong can be so fragile.