For The Beautiful Ones

I just came back.  And I’m afraid to look back. I had so much time this weekend. It was long and nice and … full, of meaning. And I’m afraid to listen to anything else than Dire Straits, or to go to sleep and wake up to this nasty world. I want to go on a two hour walk. And talk. About important stuff. Or don’t talk. And hear the silence. Not background silence, total silence. Feel the warmth of an early November night. Not caring about getting your shoes dirty.

It was a long weekend. Foggy and clear. New and old. Blurry and yet I could understand every inch of it. Every second.

I never tried or never thought I like walking so much. It’s such a peaceful thing to do. Without plugs in your ears. Me. Just me and the silence. And my two guardian angels.

—————-
Now playing: Dire Straits – Brothers In Arms
via FoxyTunes

It sends chills trough my spine. Remembering all of it. And I want to do it again. I would do it right now if I could.

But where would I find the peace and place to go walk such a meaningful walk? And with who? I am not myself here. Here, I am someone that tries to get other people to like me. What an useful life I’ve got!

The song is set on repeat. Sends me chills every time he says:

These mist covered mountains

Are a home now for me

And I don’t want to let go of it. I want to get somewhere where I can escape the myself I’m not. The bad, evil, tormented one. And forever be the one I really am inside. A “Me” I barely know: capable of love, empty, somehow, but with an immense space to fill. Unlike the small me, the full one, the one I know. The immune one: colorful, emotional, happy, the weak one, the mask. My mask.

There’s so many different worlds
So many different suns

So many different sides…

It’s written in the starlight

Even the November fog is walking to give you the perfect moonlight, the winter constellations, warmth.

There is no ending to this post. As there is no ending to my weekend, as you never stop being brothers after you no longer wear the arms. It remains there in your soul, written in the starlight…

Time is endless

This is it, here I am. I’m eighteen for  six days now. You though I’d be enjoying it. It just felt great for a day. I feel my responsabilities hanging over me. I can even see the ” You’re eighteen now” line waiting to explode out of my mom’s mouth.

Things I learned in this past six days:

1. Men are such idiots. Not all, of course, and not always. But they do not know how to keep someone they love once they have it.  Some of them are shallow, some are clean perverts. Some are too afraid to take the risks.

2. Love will save the world. Whoever said it for the first time knew what he said. Not the man-woman love though. This times, that kind of love is like glueing together two pieces of wood with jam. It’s sweet, it’s sticks the two pieces together. But not for a long time. And the woods root and the worms eat it. That’s not the love that’ll save the world. It’s the love we give. The love we show to the others. Mom tells us to get back home at eight, we do it, because we love her. My friend asks me to give him my favorite pen, even just jockingly, I give it to him, because I love him and I want to make him happy, and losing that pen isn’t calle dlosing because he has it and he is happy and it makes me even more happy.

3. You aren’t free when you do whatever you want. Au contraire. You are free when you do what other’s tell you. Because when you follow your will you are tied to it and so you are not free. But when you cut your will, and follow the others’, not just your parents’, your teachers’s, but everyone’s, then you feel free and peaceful.

4. Not caring is easy. I don’t care if my sister has a bad haircut. I don’t even look at her enough to notice her haircut, much less to think if she looks good or not. So when my mother asks, I don’t know what to say but: “I don’t care”. I don’t care about your problems, not even mine, I don’t care about anything. I’m sure this isn’t a good thing. But what should I do? Destroy my nerves crying over everyone? When you need help, I give you help. When you need me caring, I care. You don’t need to ask for it. I’ll just know when to give my attention and trust.

5. My core is rotten. And the only way to fix that is sweat.

6.  I don’t freakin’ know anything. At all.

7. Life shouldn’t suck. But as mine is now, I just wish everyone would let me alone and stop bugging me with their “let’s be happy” lines.

8. This is wrong. Something is wrong. And piano isn’t helping me anymore.