In a room, in the streets and in the Sky

There were ways she knew of, ways that would bring out the questions to who ever cared to look into the book that sat in the bookshelf. Yet unread, waiting to be found. There were ways that would enable her to be and then become absolutely nothing. A total end of the road, a ‘nil-nil’ score in a forgotten game once enjoyed by few. Day in and day out her mind drifted to her predicament, something she was herself the engineer of, but still had not found out the exact way of how to finalize the whole bloody mess. Beauty was a must, even if she knew that what she saw as beauty wasn’t conceived as something out of the sort for the people she shared her world with. They, beautiful moments, items, situations were few but nevertheless present and existed. This word that would to the very last breath describe what she was going to set in motion became the core point of where the ripple would later on spread and then fade into nothing. Leaving the surface still and calm again, like the small splash never happened.

Walking the streets at night, her mind drifting in all directions but never loosing control. Small irritations like how she was seen and treated by others was something she stopped thinking or pondering over a long time ago. She was no fool, she knew that. The questions that troubled her as much as gave her nightly walks a purpose were few but oh so powerful. She always despised when people around her talked, talked about nothing really. About how unfair and mistreated they felt, how they would deal with others if they just had that extra power they had been robbed of in the instance of the moment. These ‘things’ that they all missed to start with, they grew into the backdrop as props in her daily reality and she had noting to either give or take, she knew that much. She found it intriguingly sad how the people she sometimes eavesdropped on had absolutely no reasons for the actions they spoke of, and she never seen anyone actually do anything even remotely close to what they said they can, would, should do if only, if only. Mammals after all is said and done.

As the years bore down on her she had become more and more reluctant to others, up to a point where nobody meant anything for her anymore. The wind in the sky, rushing in from the North, between the buildings making the trees move and sing meant more than what any human would. The sun giving the shadows a truer meaning meant something, beauty, the cold at night, reaching into any crack and leaving an almost dead hand on her as she lay in her bed staring out through the laced thin fabric that was her only protection from the roaring city and the elements outside. The sea and waves pounding in on the worn concrete docks meant more than humanity and the ‘bosom’ of mankind, she often could sit for hours staring into the dark waters and feel at peace with herself, a cloak of tranquility covering her. Long walks in the rain while the humans around her sought shelter gave her such a reward that she often would not change her wet clothes when back in her small but practical solitude ‘cell-like’ room.

She was often enjoying the feeling of what the element gave her, it expecting nothing in return. Scarce and with few visual pleasantries was the room she had occupied since she was able to fend for herself, at a young age she become independent. No one else had ever entered the room since she moved in. She took pleasure in how her narrow bed that stood at an uneven angle from the wall near the dirty window above. How it’s rectangular flat semi-soft surface could make her fall so deep into herself always made her smile. She liked that the mattress was thin and gave her limited access to feeling completely relaxed, kept her on a deep but sharp mindset. As her room was on the top-floor of the seven story building she had no direct neighbors to worry about. In summer her room turned into a furnace, making her small naked body dripping with clear and lightly salted pearls of sweat, making her breathing heavier. Winter and her breath showed at all times, light and in shorter intervals. She lived in this room.

Being able to accept the willful acts of what ever came along and to find refuge in herself meant more than any other comfort would. Less always became more. She was often naked in her room and could drift off deep within her being as she stood at ease, together with the moment at night, stood still with legs slightly apart in the middle of the room, breathing slow and light, only her skin protecting her life from spilling out and evaporating on the polished old wooden floor beneath her small feet. Alone and in need of nothing, a free prisoner on planet earth.

As she closed her eyes her life passed before her eyes, choosing to look but not to see.

–‘Who am I and what can I do here. Hanging on when I know that nothing lasts forever but the sky, the sea and the wind’.

Purposelessness in its essence, she could feel the pressure loosing it’s force, the heat drifting away. Like a cooling teapot just becoming a vessel but its purpose, what it was made for not there anymore. She reached her limit of her dreams somedays. The purpose of her being had been dealt its last card and she was now running from what she knew stronger day by day, that she must seize to be. Belong nowhere, be nothing, nothing else matters.

It’s in you, with you

It’s always been within you

Become the fading sounds

The words that were burnt

Ripple on the calm lake

Reaching out momentum

Sweet dreams of tomorrow

No one knows your being

Drifting away and out

Disagreement of rights

Twisted with blank sorrow

Chasing the dream still

Meaningless existence

Moving on in all directions

Satisfaction comes at a cost

Let me dive deeper within

Soar as the winter gale

Let the wind sing your name

Endless seas knowing all

Depth and height united

A curious mind walking on

Seeker of her State of grace

So, one day, the day. A bleak day you would think nothing of, in the sense of worthiness non. A day like all others, equally or maybe perhaps bleaker than what was usual, with a slight grey semi transparent film shielding the true light falling on her already transparent being. One of those days when one continue to function like in automatic mode. Each minute forgotten as fast as a new one emerged.

Coming around a corner in the area where she used to go when there was nothing but empty words filling her inner vision. A street corner, one she turned around countless times before, a corner like all other corners.

The dim light was falling in an angle that made her stop suddenly, the air blew lightly but with a certain wet chill that made her pause for a brief moment, the distant sound of the city with it’s sirens and mechanical tones made her stop, the specific metallic sweet and salty taste in her mouth made her stop. And the way the rough slightly damp asphalt clad sidewalk pressed up on her soles through her thin black canvas shoes made her stop in her track. As her being became heavy and light at the same time it all fell in place, she knew. And she knew that she knew that she knew. She knew and accepted it as the slap it was, a justified revoking firm slap of her dulled senses. That moment was all, the stinging slap on her lean smooth face, a blackened beautiful moment stopped in it’s momentum, a moment that held it’s breath and froze the picture. She lost control, and gained it all.

                                     

                          ‘A first sign of the beginning of understanding is the wish to die’   -Franz Kafka

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