Perfection of falling down

It seemed to be an ok evening after a lot of mess behind you. Nothing seemed to crash your optimism. But suddelnly as you look around, as you see the people, as you listen to the voices, suddenly you get to the point to realize that you're all alone in a crowd of strangers. People you once knew today seem to be you're farest aquaintances, maybe people you never actually saw, just heared about them, things which might be true, but might be also fals.


You see a sea of pale faces, narrow word streets comming torwards you, but you can't let them in, you can't pay attention, you can't think of any of them, you can't listen, you can't even see :some strangers might be talking. The only thing you feel that the deep blue loneliness seems to get darker and darker in your eyes. Next moment you feel the river is comming to run wet, you feel that the tears of the passionate pain which you feel inside suddenly come to run down on your cheeks.


You don't need to fear.. no one is going to notice it, they never did, why would they now? But your ironic shyness is not on your side, it never was . You start to feel afraid, unsafely anxious. You want to escape from this world of illusions, fake people and never mentioned realities. You can't decide what to do, you're turning crimson red , still not noticed by anyone. Everything is fading into darkness around you, the lights turn down, but just before your wet eyes, you can barely take the picture in front of them, you have to close them, you can't help your strong reaction of closing them. But that won't help, you just come to realize that reality overcomes you even more : You're living a lie.


You're so angry, you don't know if you want to be noticed or not, you just want to feel better but it seems equal to impossible. You can't help being more and more afraid. The dark of the loneliness and mess around you makes you wnat to hide, makes you want to run away nowhere but far from your toughts and feelings. Emotions which seem to be killed for ages, but still have passionate effect on you present moments.


You start to feel hilarious... How the hell nobody, but nobody can't see the pain inside you, the sorrow in your eyes, the marks of shame on your face? Is that so hidden, or are you so insignificant? Can't they just look at you only for a second?
You get frustrated... you don't want to look at them anymore, they are just gosths from the road to hell which you were guided on. Even worse , they are dead gosths ... you are one of those people they have to guide... GUIDE? They do nothing, they make you struggle in the middle of nowhere, wanting to hit you with hidden words, untold secrets . They make you fail between the known and the unknown, there's no way back, no way forward.


You start to feel like you're fading away, you ran out, you slam the door behind you with the hars tought of never openning it again. As you get out you start to swallow the air. The smell of wet , cold night seems to give you some peace between your toughts of pain. Maybe in this moment the painfull toughts run trough your body and mark each part of it.


You feel ok ,' cause you're out of the fake reality.. but you can't stop your barin's work. It gives you memories about your loneliness, about your beautiful struggle.. about the the glorious emptiness you feel inside. You are bleeding.. but no one can see it.. crying overcomes you the same harmonic way as it used to.
You don't believe in anything right now.. neither in your dreams, nor in you. You as person , you're the best friend and the biggest enemy of yourself.
You just wonder lonely as a cloud, and you feel like dieing, when the grey clouds crash into each other they burst.. you're such a shame that you burst alone.. and give the neverendless rain.


You'd like to feel nothing. Funny that you're empty all nside, but you hate how much you can feel. And the worst thing ever, which kills your soul, breakes your black wings is that you wander all LONELY.


Sitting down at the edge of something much too deep makes you see that nothing can kill your soul, it is already killed. And the angel of white lands won't ever reach your hand..you are not angry anymore.. the crimson blood of your emotions has been flowing away.. down the deep nothingness inside of you.


Now you just love to stare at the perfect teardrops from your dark eyes, which seem to have no voice at all when crashing with the deepness.


Everything feels the same, so does you.. right now you feel exhausted to run away.. you just wait for something to happen but nothing will broke the deep, suffocating dark of the night.. loneliness is on your side