Silent Storm

Like a unicorn dancing in the night concealed in the shadows of the stars. Deceiving as lakes surface, you can drown in the depth of the eyes. A shadow that puts on its best performance in the glow of something that burns hot like my soul. Enticing like young Medusa will make anyone bend the knee, strong as Athena, will defend its own. Like Prometheus will take a risk to help others, just to find the cursed eagle in the bottom of the glass. Another evening has come to pass dreaming of running together barefoot through the grass. Similar to little Mary quite contrary, allows the one who is down to enter her secret garden to heal with the power of her will. Being tired I’m searching through my memories for rest, for new reminiscent projections of presuppositions I had about you when I left.

Searching the skylines for words that could set me free, self-doubt keeps the clenched teeth in place and I have seem to lost my voice and you seemed to remain patient, waiting. I’ve spent my life trying to control the future I can’t define. You were my iconoclast telling me to open the sails on the mast and go with the wind. So let’s not talk about our actions in past but future tense and nor like they happened on accident.

After every storm comes the silence, take it how you will, miss me in that silence after being swept away or wait for the quiet after your treasures are destroyed. I’ll be here waiting dressed in the positive as I’m tired of the worlds ugliness that I hide inside me. I will abide in your abode then abscond, flout morality, reminisce and wait for storm or lonely silence. Only to see, the smile that fuels a thousand of moments.

Tabula Rasa

Night, I hear the calling again, how long can I ignore it? maybe this will be the last time I burn. A constant battle inside me between my brain, heart and my soul. Locked in this small cage they all want to get away forever. The silence whispers its song while the moon cries with rain, the stars stare in eerie silence. What can I do take away the pain that leaves a stain on the mane of my confidence. Night, I want to write but the secrets suffocate my heart, night, rhythmic breathing invites me to a dance with instruments of hell which I want to extinguish. Shadows dance around the room when the clock strikes midnight, desire begs for help while guilt inflicts constant wounds.

Grasping for resolve I will paint a picture without a brush. Stating I don’t want a world without feelings, with personal opinions being choked down before they are born and songs of rebellion drowned in a glass of bitterness and disappointment. Nor I want to feel like young Werther ever again or this will be my end.

Staring in the mirror, behind the glass I see myself move independently of my actions studying my image. With a tight fist I break the walls of our anguish and reach out to pull the other me into this world. We hug like long separated twins and sit down in a dark room talking without words. Painting our nightmares on the canvas of fear then setting fire to it providing a glow of courage. Asking the night to cloak us in its darkness from the eyes of the moon we will waltz around the shield of a clock. Running through sands of time to get away from the crawling morning we will cheat time when we hide under a number. There we will fall in a slumber, filling our hollows, taking the broken parts and connect them into one. We will no longer be damaged, combining every cell until all is well.

With pain subsiding I come out of hiding and let the time catch me bringing me to the present, I no longer resent this world that I hold. Finally I am whole and the prolonged session of slow depression is gone allowing me to feel like I won.

It is nice to write again, it has been a long time. I was away due to work, laziness, holidays abroad. And I had that extra job as Hells personal trainer exe(o) rcising my demons. But that’s over and I have a new outlook on life.

Waiting for the right time to do something means you will probably never do it.

Try to imagine

Try to imagine, not all of you will I know that. The idea is for you to find out how some of your acquaintances feel like.

You live your daily life every day looks like the one before and the next with occasional changes. This day was one of them, you went out for a walk across your town, watching people living their careless lives. Then in the crowd you see it, that inhuman creature. Walking around people looking for its prey, for some reason everyone is blind to it but you can see it and that thought alone scares you. Your heart pounds and your eyes meet and you can feel its gaze pierce your soul from afar, you feel like breaking down on the spot but you manage to keep a poker face and turn back to your home with the hope it didn’t see you or at least didn’t realize you can see it.

You return home and lock all the doors to feel more secure, turn on the heating and put the kettle on to make this empty house feel like home. With your favourite brew, you take up your usual activities that take your mind off of what you saw today. Then the evening comes and you hear strange noises outside and all comes back to you. Your pulse rises when you hear your neighbor’s dog bark wildly and is silenced suddenly, you rush to double-check the doors are locked and go upstairs to your bedroom and close the door as well. You listen out for the strange noise you heard outside but there is nothing instead you hear someone trying the door handle downstairs, could it be a friend? A moment later you hear someone trying to open the back door. Your heart jumps to your throat, could this thing find you in your home? You sit still on the bed praying it will go away, and then your heart drops from your throat to the bottom of the stomach when you hear the floorboards creek downstairs and you remember you opened a window earlier because it got too hot from the heating.

Your panic level raises with every step that makes noise under heavy footing, you try to be still and silent hoping it will not enter our room but it gets harder when the scratching on the wall nears your bedroom door. You start to think about everything you did in your life wondering if you made the right decisions so far but when you see the door handle being pressed down you start to lose it. Your eyes are flooded with tears that fall on your shaking hands, the door opens slowly and you know there is no escape. At this point you stopped caring if you live or die all that’s left is to wait for what happens next.

The door opens fully and you sob harder, it’s all clear now, it has found you and you know you will be tortured relentlessly. It’s all clear this creature is Loneliness.

This is my vision of long-term loneliness, I hope it will give you an idea how some people feel because you will not see it at first glance because it all happens behind close doors. And even though you offer a simple solution of finding friends and being active often monotony and shyness will keep that person in shackles like ball and chain. So reach out first to someone from your friend list because they might be too shy do it themselves and you just could make a big difference in their lives.


Sometimes I feel disconnected from the world, or I should say sometimes I feel like I come in contact with humanity just in time to extinguish that feeling with the connection. Do you ever feel like your own soul is trying to suffocate you?

Out of place out of time I don’t know what the trends are, social media annoys me and today’s music makes me want to throw up just like the current stereotypes and fake personalities. Am I protecting myself from the bullshit of this world? maybe but at what cost? The one person I love is always here with me, everyone I care about is either hundred or thousands of miles away. My social skills are degrading and isolation creeps in steadily. Some friends I know I can always rely on no mater when we talked last others contact me only when they need something that’s if they remember I exist of course.

Sometimes I wonder why do I even have Facebook, on it I currently have 210 friends. Nice joke, the truth is I have 1 best friend , the few friends I occasionally talk to I can count on my fingers and the rest is acquaintances I have no contact with. Maybe I should meet new people but last few I mate ware so fake I don’t feel like meeting anyone.

Why am I writing about this? I don’t know , my friends won’t read it most people probably closed the page at this point. I guess I write it so my computer gets a better sense of whom taps away constantly at its keyboard or maybe because my head is blank lately for ideas for the blog. Last two weeks I am trying to build a skeleton for a book I will write but it’s a hard and scary process with huge amount of work especially with my creativity on the floor at the moment.

Maybe it’s time to call my friend loneliness again, she is always happy to keep me company.


My Friend Loneliness

I sit alone in the dark room again, the night rain knocks on my window in morse code asking if I am ok? So I quickly tap back -. — to it. With the howl of the wind it disappears for a brief second just to come back with company. He is joined by loneliness, I look at them through my closed window trying to decide should I let them in or not.

From the attic I can sense something looking down at me so I decide to let them in to build up courage through company. I open the window and the feeling of unease together with the mysterious eyes disappears. Loneliness sits beside me and the rain says it would rather stay outside so I shake its wet hand and close the window again.

We talk in silence without end as no words are required, she reads my emotions and I can hear her clearly in my head. We move all sorts of events from the past, present and future. All my worries, doubts, fears and regrets. She listens patiently and I know I can let my thoughts flow like the tear on my cheek. And when I am done she gives me her opinion telling me it will get better and what’s in the past is in the past. We soon switch roles and she starts to tell me what troubles her that people often fear and hurt her when she didn’t do anything wrong. I notice the rain outside listening to her in secret as if he can relate to what she is saying. I show her my understanding unfortunately there is not much I can but try to make some people aware of what she feels.

We sit like this till the morning comes and the last droplets of rain tap on the window saying it’s time for them to go so I open the window to let the loneliness out saying goodbye wondering when she will come again. I finally go to bed trying to find sleep yet in my head is the question which loneliness asked me. “Why do people fear me and don’t like me? I just come to those who are alone to keep them company and yet they call me loneliness.”