Sturm und drang
Najradije bih da ovaj post zakopam što dublje u samoću. Sa pesmom koja ne prestaje da se okreće u krug.
All day long on my mind echoes are marching with numbers. Scary-looking hidden weakness in departure time. I know it all, my subconscious knows, my alter ego and all the neighbours residing temporarily in some parts of the brain. Complete pile of hair, regardless of the hard facts, gravitates.
The questions resonate. Formed irritating echo in the middle ear, doesn’t allow me a moment of peace, doesn’t give me my own space in between.
From now on, I’ll stop counting.
I have to forget to remind myself about survived, lost, desired…
The ocean between us, the choice is ours, whether we travel or sit on the banks fearful of what separates us, or connect …
Packed illusion. Last traces exist in a soul of one peculiarly child, deeply hope, it will recognize the subtle liberating a big smile for the first round of the sun.
Experiences stretched, scattered, displaced. Underpinned obstacles, too, no longer counted. But somehow, after that they’ll continue to support, with deleted the red “stop” signs.