Drifting

Lately, I’ve been afraid of words, they’ve been hunting me in my longest nights, and pacing in front of my eyes in my heaviest emotions. Oddly, I feel as if nothing is coming to me right now. As if time was erasing my thoughts so I can’t keep immortalizing them. And even though I have plenty of things to say, I’d rather keep drifting.

Just one moment keeps coming to me. Being alone, in the living room, looking at the ceiling, just being completely myself. Spinning in my head, totally awake, being someone else and not thinking about a thing. There, in the middle of twilight, in the middle of the dim light that keeps the crawling darkness away, I used to think about time. I used to think about my dreams, the future, so close, so sure. Now I only think of the rain outside, and in the way the vultures surround my world. I used to think about the beauty outside, now I’m focused on uncertain things and the loneliness on the inside.

World turns gray, the way I’d never want it to be, and the people I used to trust vanish in a grayscale worry, forgetting what’s important, what we used to talk about. I now pick up these words, to give myself one more chance, to forget the faces of life that had forgotten me. Just a little reminder, like many other reminders present day by day, that life is about changes, about feelings; about words.

That it is important to stop, look around, face silence and listen to your own words. And maybe then, you’ll find music.

Just the moment of myself, walking around the hallways of my mind, as I walked around the hallways of what my world is reduce to, spins in my head. It brings me one more to this universe of unintelligible sentences.

Maybe this is a moment you can relate to, maybe not. Maybe you’ll somehow feel connected and you might consider the moment wasn’t really gone for good, no matter how simple it was.

Because words are hidden everywhere and emotions aren’t forever, whenever the world falls down, I’d rather be drifting.