Illusion is ugly devil

Illusion is an ugly evil, one of those subtle and bastard, infamous ones.

Before recovering from a burning disappointment, you go through a lonely and particularly terrible hell, you let yourself be eaten helplessly, without being able to prevent your ruin.

You collapse into a million pieces while standing, so that no one sees your suffering, no one considers you weak.

And you are, extremely fragile like a very thin crystal, poised in an unstable and precarious balance. In those moments everything makes you lose your center, you decide only to save what can be saved, or at least what is worth keeping in spite of everything.

They tell you to let time take care of itself, that things heal themselves, fading, but you know very well that it is not and will not be like that: you just let yourself pass away, while you collect yourself, in silence.

Have you noticed how much silence they bring?

How much space they dilate?

It took away your desire to talk, to converse with others and with yourself, as if you lost all the words you had.

I have piled up many of our words in a sort of niche inside me, in a very specific place, unable to lock them away, they are a daily echo, but they don't always taste the same. Sometimes they hurt more than others... I can't say how long this will last, I only know that disappointments are not a choice, but a rather cruel game of massacre and whoever deludes should pay a high price...

Instead, only the deluded suffer.

... He who has no heart, it is said, does not die of a heart attack.

[©Yelena b.]

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