Thursday, October 01, 2015

stranger in moscow

stranger in moscow

i lay on my side on the park bench with my head on her lap. we looked perfectly contiguous in our black overcoats; perhaps from a distance, we'd have looked like a huge T on a metal bench. it was cold day with the sun overhead - enough to mark a day and enough to feel the lack of thereof. i closed my eyes and secretly thought of how people could simply be like that - lost in their body locks absolutely. rarely did someone cross us. rarely did i notice and rarely did i get conscious. it was a different place in a different time.

she was always pretty not because i thought or knew so. i was told that she was pretty. she was pretty. i never realised it when i was with her. i never realised i needed her around. i never wanted anyone around. i just wanted to be around and leave when i could. and i would.

i opened my eyes from time to time to see the infinite blank of the beauty - the park, the people, the trees, the snow, the sun - oh, the sun! the sun looking down at us with frosty glares. everything knew.

i snuggled a bit closer to her trying to feel the warmth, but she was as cold as everything. i tried taming my mind to distant thoughts of our past, our present and the future. i tried chasing my shadow of thoughts in the head. i tried a lot of things until i couldn't be like that. i tried sleeping. but i couldn't. i couldn't do any of it. there was no peace. there was no war. in a familiar place, in a pleasant time, i was running in the rain semi-clad in my head. i was diving in the sea of clouds drenching with every inch. i was the cloud, the drop, the air, the dive, the plunge. i was everything and yet i was so tiny.

i got off the bench. the cold showed no respite.

everything stared at me - the trees, the animals, the people, the air, the sun. oh! the sun was so magnificent, so bright yet so cold and yet i longed for the moon.

i was confused in my abstraction.

say goodbye with no sympathies

'perhaps the only difference between me and other people was that I've always demanded more from the sunset; more spectacular colors when the sun hit the horizon. that's perhaps my only sin.'.

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