Thursday, May 19, 2005

In a corner of his bedroom

In a little corner of his bedroom, he gathered, save one, all the things he cherished in his cruel and endearing world: a ray of sunlight, a window, a keyboard, a book, a painting, a family, a home, a gift, a country, a small indoor tree.

But only looking at them in a picture could he truly feel how much he loved them. Close to them, and around them, sometimes he would suffocate. Maybe it was his presence rather than theirs that suffocated him. Or maybe it was just life in a picture, serene and peaceful, that looked better and felt better than the one that moved with and around him. While his life viciously bounced him around like a rubber ball, it always managed to pull itself closer to him, making him grow more and more attached to its every beat and every moment.

Until it all eventually went away.

He wondered whether he will miss these little fragments of existence, when, soon, he will have to leave them. Yes. Very much. Maybe he will carry the picture in his wallet to remind himself how people are never satisfied with what they have, until they don't have it anymore. And how they will never want the happiness they already have, but the one waiting for them around the corner.

People, he thought, seed their existence with disappointment and pain, while peace and contentment are a pair of eyeglasses they have on and look through, but can never find. People like him, who have many things to look for, but not a thing to see.

In a small corner of his bedroom, he sat down next to his keyboard, and threw a long gaze by the trees into the horizon. His mind wandered away again while his fingers clumsily found the keys to an unfamiliar, slightly off-tune melody, that held him close to it like a mother.

He was tired and ready to let go but he kept playing until he calmly fell asleep.


Blogger Abu Takla said...

Very emotional. Wonderful style.
Nice to find ur blog.

9:51 PM  
Blogger Delirious said...

Wonderful. Touching. Elegantly written...

3:15 AM  

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