The sadness of always being at a distance from things, either above or beneath...
I lay in contention on the warm seat as the light streams through my closed eyelids. A smile creeps upon my face as the clicking of the train against the rails, sound within me and outside of me, much like a heart beat. Contention. I had forgotten this word in sometime. Nothing had ever been enough, nothing had ever been satisfying. But I find this word again today as my head hangs from the edge of the seat, as the blood rushes to the tips of my ears and as I feel the sun smile upon my skin.
Raucous laughter rise from the compartment next to mine and I see a bunch of kids that enjoy the beginning of the summer as much as I do. In the seat next to mine sits a lady. Her wrinkles speak a million stories but her face speak one thing, as she sits by the window, eyes closed, a gentle smile playing around her lips: Contention.
What we fantasize about what our lives should be? What we imagine our fates could be? And how sad it is that we loose the very essence of life chasing a better one? How we have lost sight of this moment that I am basking in, and how we chase that which may or may not come to pass? How pitiful our lives become as we delude ourselves into believing that we search for a good life?
I let the sun light wash over my body, purging me of all that is irrelevant, cleansing me of all delusions, and caressing lovingly every inch of me, as a mother would. I smile without opening my eyes, and cuddle up inside this wonderful feeling, and I realize something.
That this moment would cease to exist the minute I open my eyes. That I will be forced into a world where we are the rats and the blocks of cheese and the cats; where we are all of them and none of them. That we would end up devouring ourselves in the pursuit of something that exist within ourselves all the while. I realize all this and I smile. Who said I should wake up?
I lay in contention on the warm seat as the light streams through my closed eyelids. A smile creeps upon my face as the clicking of the train against the rails, sound within me and outside of me, much like a heart beat. Contention. I had forgotten this word in sometime. Nothing had ever been enough, nothing had ever been satisfying. But I find this word again today as my head hangs from the edge of the seat, as the blood rushes to the tips of my ears and as I feel the sun smile upon my skin.
Raucous laughter rise from the compartment next to mine and I see a bunch of kids that enjoy the beginning of the summer as much as I do. In the seat next to mine sits a lady. Her wrinkles speak a million stories but her face speak one thing, as she sits by the window, eyes closed, a gentle smile playing around her lips: Contention.
 | |
| Upside down...the world looks the same, but something is afoot |
I let the sun light wash over my body, purging me of all that is irrelevant, cleansing me of all delusions, and caressing lovingly every inch of me, as a mother would. I smile without opening my eyes, and cuddle up inside this wonderful feeling, and I realize something.
That this moment would cease to exist the minute I open my eyes. That I will be forced into a world where we are the rats and the blocks of cheese and the cats; where we are all of them and none of them. That we would end up devouring ourselves in the pursuit of something that exist within ourselves all the while. I realize all this and I smile. Who said I should wake up?
