I stand at the edge of the cliff every day wondering if I should retrace my steps and go back, or should I lift my foot and with one step, I can let go of everything and I would finally be free. Everyday, I stand at the end of this whole wide world and I stare at everything this place is, everything this is build on. I wonder how many souls it consumed before it became what it is, a severely hungry demon that sucks at the will of life, and we succumb to it. Every day I stand in front of the mirror, and look at all what I have lost, and I wonder how am I still standing. I feel like that one hollow tree which when cut open, bleeds of pests. With every cold breeze, I feel my fire dying down. The cold on the streets has taken roof under my skin and every time I climb those hills, those cliffs, I know I get one step closer to solace, only I never take that final step.
Only Lord knows why.
All I want to do more than anything is to free this sorry little planet of my sorry little existence and fly to the stars.
Old nana says that there is a world, away from our world, a realm of fire and of desire, a realm of fresh air and breathing life, A realm where happiness rules. I wonder how would that be, a place where, they say, water falls from the sky and then it flows in narrow lanes all over the dirt until all those narrow lanes combine to form one blue life. She says that every morning, little black-brown creatures sing to you. Imagine waking up to a song sung only for you. Isn’t that magical? She says the dirt is not naked, it has soft green feathers on it, and she says colored papers grow in clusters on them and they smell. I don’t know how paper smells, but maybe they smell like how colors should. But she says, they smell sweet and powdery and they smell like lost memories and loved faces. And she says, there’s love in their air, and when people look at each other, they are connected. How wonderful it must be, you would never be alone. She says they have a burning star in the sky and that it lights up their world. Why doesn’t it set them on fire? A big ball of fire looming over your head. Huh, I wonder! Everybody says she is crazy, who cares. Maybe I am crazy too. I’d rather be crazy than dead.
I still stand on the edge of the world and wonder how it would be to live under a ball of fire and fly in the drowning lanes. And everyday, I turn around and walk back to my life, through the towers of blue and purple crystals, meandering with the flow of my own thoughts. And every single day, I wonder if I will ever have the courage to walk off the cliff, will I ever be brave enough to let go of this miserable place, and will I ever have enough faith in my being to put one firm foot across the land of sorrows and angst. I wonder what it would be like to fall asleep to the sounds of water hitting the rocks and waking to the melodies of little beaked faces. I wonder what it would be like to walk bare feet on the soft green feathered dirt and smell the colored papers. Maybe one day, I will run away. One day.