Staring down at the cracks of the cobblestone road, the sunset glare reflects hints of golden brown.
The colors converge into a pattern, as if a dynamic work of art .Just a small gift from the sun, to the mortals down below.
But few if any, take notice. For they are always in a rush, trying to complete the next thing on the to-do list. The pitter-patter o
f hurried footsteps crush the kaleidoscope beneath their feet.
Like a stampede, this human herd stomps forward in one unified direction. Walking against the oncoming crowd,
I evoke a few puzzled stares. Why do you break protocol by not walking in the same direction as us? , say their faces.
But, they won’t bother to chastise me for it. That would require breaking their mold.
I blend in way too easily among them. But, let me assure you, it is through no special effort of my own. Their apathy
is a perfect veil that allows me to slip in and out of them as often as I please.
Night is approaching, a new world is awakening. It when the sunshine has died that my powers come alive. Human
thoughts are much more relaxed at night. As opposed to the tightly wound distresses of the day.
I can then glide into their brain, and study their deepest thoughts. No matter how hard a human tries to suppress it,
their thoughts and personality form a world inside their own brains. Fears, Insecurities, and most of all delusions,
are most common things that I find. No human is what they seem, for it is a sin in their minds to be connected to their real
self. It probably accounts for their irrational behavior.
The café is becoming filed with patrons. Sitting on the chaise lounge , sipping green tea ,I seem a bored , casual
observer . Proper etiquette of today dictates that I stare at my smart phone, trying to seem busy. The table behind me
applies this code of conduct diligently. Their fingers punch the screen in an effort to seem smart. But, in their fashionable
detachment, they desperately hope someone will take notice of them.
It’s just another flavor of silly logic the humans conjured up for this decade. Chuckle. They are so funny. They follow
each other blindly in conformity, and rebel through conformity. Oddly, they hate the very zeitgeist they help create.
Despite all of their questionable behavior on the surface, it’s below their façade where I’ll find my answers. They are
complex creatures with so much potential, if only they weren’t so hapless.
Who shall I choose today? Someone that will pique my curiosity. Someone who’s mind is layered with hidden
doors .My excitement builds as I imagine what I will find when I enter their minds. A landscape of barren melancholy?
Or bustling flutters of light from a restless spirit?
The moon reflects the catch lights of my porcelain cup. But, I remain hidden in the blackness, vanished into the night
sky. It is finally my time to explore what exists in those thick heads of theirs.
I scout around, looking at the various faces of the humans that zoom past me. My word, do they ever stop running
from place to place?
Some are eager to rush back to home to a well –earned slumber, regretting spending too few moments with their l
oved ones. Others are rushing back home to apply various shades of maquillage on their face. Or, elastic liquids
to their hair, attempting to disguise the true nature of their being before heading out to party.
“Perhaps,” they reason, “if no one loves me with the face I am born with, maybe they shall love the one I can paint.”
I shall like to explore this reasoning more. Perhaps in their mind I will find the reasons for their self-doubt. It will be
among the mazes of confusion and the longing for acceptance.
A small figure dashes across the sidewalk, she looks pensive. Hmm, now I am curious.
I close my eyes and prepare to pierce her consciousness. Holding my breath, my chest feels an increase in
pressure .The atoms within me begin to accelerate, swirling around as my body begins to split. Smoke is all that
is left of where I once stood.
Opening my eyes, I gaze at my surroundings. I am in a transparent glass hall, holding thousands of glass rooms
floating above a transparent lake. But a soul is nowhere to be found. Turning my head to the right, I notice a break
in continuity. One room has been completely shattered to pieces. A few of the shards contain small drops of blood.
Hmm, why are you so angry, my lovely? Why have you locked yourself in a prison of glass?
I will know soon enough. I take a few steps forwards, hearing the scratches of my shoes against the glass floors.
“Hello, tell me what you are like.”I say in a light whisper. The echo ricochets across her brain.
In the psyche, I am many things. A phantom, an alien, or an angel. It all depends on perspective.
But, you won’t know for sure. After all, maybe this is all in your head.
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Kim Gray als Lieblingsautorin markieren
Gedichte der Liebe. Sag mir ein Zauberwort von Barbara Priolo
Von Liebe und Verletzlichkeit sprechen die Gedichte Barbara Priolos in immer neuen,überraschenden Variationen. Sie benennen die Süße erwachender Zuneigung, die Inbrunst fraulichen Verlangens nach Zärtlichkeit, und sie wissen zugleich von herber Enttäuschung, von Trennung und Leid des Abgewiesenwerdens. Deswegen aufhören zu lieben wäre wie aufhören zu leben. ** Das Schönste ist,was man liebt **, bekennt die griechische Lyrikerin Sappho auf Lesbos. Diese Einsicht-aus beselingender und schmerzlicher Erfahrung wachsend-ist Ausgangspunkt der sapphischen Dichtungen.
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