Perhaps I was trapped here, but was I? I never found this place to be fully indulging, but I want to drown in it. I wished to understand the principle in my mind. I shall drown in the dark and live in the light. As I thought towards upstairs, it was more cold, cold as needles piercing through me, and frightening. The walls reached higher than what walls could ever protect. The windows, showed the inside, and not outside. As I walked towards the three doors, I heard the sounds of walking, perhaps it was pacing around it's room. I walked towards the wooden door.
I heard sounds walking sounds from downstairs. A pacing sound. A sound in rhythm. is it a intruder? Should I go inside one of the rooms or should I check downstairs?
Perhaps it was that person? I turned to my back, then I was in the living room. It was him, no it was not him. It was a family of him. Enjoying, I lip wanted to smile. But I all I can see is no one. I can only hear ravaging sounds of people tearing in the air.
the burning of wood in the furnace, it was somehow painful. i wanted to scream, I can't. I wanted to cry, I can't. Please... Help me. Why do I hear gun shots... Why do I hear explosives.
As I blinked, I saw myself holding the weight of a rifle admist a war. I was crying for a man I didn't know. I was screaming for a man I never loved. But he was hugging me, but all I saw was blood in my hands, is it my red warmth? Is it his red warmth? Who was he? Is he me? I pushed him, the warmth felt like my skin was being melted.
AHHHHHHH, I screamed, not because of the pain. But because I had no reason to scream. Was i the one screaming?
I turned to my left, I saw a man burning in flames. I saw his body slowly melting, his body felt like a candle. It was warming, I was supposed to help him. But I saw myself, being burned like a candle. He saw me being burned alive, why didn't he helped me?
Where was I again? To me it felt like a betrayal. To me it felt like a relief. To me it felt like a sharp object. To me it felt like being a hero. To me I felt like a hero. To me I felt like a hero piercing a fake hero.
As the knife went in, I saw a wooden chair. I walked towards it, red warmth soaking my hands but inside my stomach was hollow, like I was the one being stabbed.
Who are you? I felt the knife was inside me, the blood dripped to the ceilings. The wooden planks rusted. My head began to spiral In my eyes. All I can see is the table in the form of a chair. I want to smash this table.
I sat in it.
A lady gave me a tea, I smelled it. It the scent was floral, it was elegant, like the lady. I took a sip. It was delicious, it was sweet, it was delightful, it was loveable, if was warm, it felt everything.
I woke up, I was in a living room. and a familiar face glanced at me. It was Aleksandr. Why is he here? he said "I wanted to help that person.", he was in grieved.
I said to him "We human are not excluded from the harsh trial of reality.".
he said to me. "We human are not excluded from the harsh trial of reality.".
Who was I talking to? I'm the only one in this house. in this lonely house.
I looked at my right hand, it was young. It was full of energy. I turned my head towards my left hand, it was pale, it was old.
Aleksandr, who are you really? The more I see you, the more I began to realize that I was Aleksandr.
I stood with my two feet. I walked with my body. I ate bread in joy, in happiness, in light. I drank water in hatred, in sadness, in dark. I too believe that true happiness should only be witness once.
I made a coffee, it was pale, it was bitter. How would I know if it had a taste or not. But I felt like I experience this many times. How should I begin to explain?
If I saw myself, be myself, talking to myself. Would I be disgusted? I experienced life differently like all people. I wish to know more about Aleksandr. He is a good man. a man who experienced life like all people.
I finished my coffee, it was full. I didn't finish it. it tasted bitter. Should I drink it, or should I see myself fall to despair. Should I indulge my taste buds in this black coffee or should I indulge myself beneath my own gravestone.
I drank the coffee. I stood up walked towards the window, I saw two people, it was a couple. One young boy, one young girl. He grabbed the hand of his lady. I grabbed the hand of my lady. We walked towards the bakery. I looked at her, there was no one.
Only myself in the house, thinking that I would be the one of them, thinking that my house would be a bakery with just a scent of coffee.