it was warm and soft under this thick blanket of thoughts and feelings which came to her sooner than she expected.
up till then she was living her life, bumping from one wall to another hurting herself from time to time. it was tough but so damn enjoyable. her mind was sharp. her heart was most of the time broken. but it didn’t matter because she could see through so many things in the world. she knew how to peer behind the everydayness, behind people’s strings of words they don’t understand themselves. and most importantly she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. so what, if this light was only in her head? the ideas might well turn out to be more real than fresh bread you get in the morning.
and now they came, fell down from the sky like big fluffy snowflakes and covered everything with their smooth whiteness. covered her head, her eyes, reached inside and turned her brains into a piece of cotton wool and her blood into honey. she forgot how to be a dance or a poem. she forgot how to dream. and she stopped waiting for a “flight of angels”. instead she agreed on fresh bread every morning and fireworks once a year. she was happy. yet the nagging feeling somewhere in her stomach remained and was telling her that something was lost. forever?
wake me up wake me up
