| Confessions |
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| 05:00pm 08/05/2003 |
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I watch the blood drip down your skin
And I sigh, because I know you’re alive.
Only when letting go all the negative emotions people show who they really were inside. Anger, tears, cruelty, depression. Only then they allowed themselves to be who they really are, only then all masks and walls came tumbling down, whether they are conscious or not. Then, you can see their souls.
Because everyone has their own demons within, their own skeletons in the closet. No matter what they say, everyone has something they want to hide from the sun, from the eyes of everyone. And that thing, that something is never a sweet and positive thing. It’s a devilish, sinful, unforgivable emotion.
For such a long time, she hadn't felt anything. Unconsciously, she had built her own wall. But then, she realized there was nothing for the wall to guard. Inside, it is empty. As time passes, she had just stopped caring. Stopped feeling so many things.
And if she couldn’t feel, she would feel through them. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Tales of Destruction, part I |
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| 10:54pm 08/05/2003 |
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Once, there was a faraway village high in the mountains, where life was calm and peaceful, and people were as happy and satisfied as they thought it was possible to be. The village was far and distant from others, so the only ones who ever came there were lonely wanderers and monks, who slept their night and left before the sun rose again. Whenever the rare ocassion came, and an earthquake came tumbling down, destroying their homes and cattle, they hid in the secret caves inside the mountain. When the disaster was over, the people came out of the caves and looked at their ruined homes, mourned the loved ones they had lost, and then thanked the skies for the ones who were alive. They rebuilt their homes anew, made sacrifices to the skies, and never ever in their lives asked for the reason why this had come to them. And so they lived for many centuries, in peace and harmony.
But as the village stayed the same, the world had moved on. And there came a time when the villagers didn't have a choice if they wanted to face it or not.
One night, when the skies were darkest and the stars couldn't be seen, a tribe of assassins and thieves on wild horses rode in the village with bows and swords. People, who had always lived in harmony and had never seen any horse or metal, thought they were sent by the skies and had a message for the people, so they didn't hide in the caves but instead came to greet the strangers. But the hunters didn't feel compassion or show mercy, they killed every man and woman to the last, stole their belongings and burnt down their houses, until there was nothing left.
Only two had lived through the night, two fair-haired boys who had ran away, into the forest. In the morning, they stood on the end of the forest and watched the rain silence the last flames on the smoking ruins of their homes in a quiet apprehension. The view was something of another reality. And then the younger boy turned his head to his brother standing beside him. He wanted to speak, but somehow the words didn't come over his lips. Instead, his brother whispered quietly, his gaze still on the ruins.
"We were weak, and now we have been made stronger. Nothing will be the way it was before, and that was what the skies wanted to tell us. We were blind, and now we can see. And for the first time, I do not know either to be thankful or not."
Then, both boys went into the forest, and hunted the last sacrifice for the skies. When it was done, they left the village and never came back. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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