By today it is eight. I haven't left the house for exactly eight days. Except for occasional ringing and a few phone calls, there is not much disturbing. I don't even light the lamps. I want them to think that I am not at home, maybe I am going on a distant journey without telling anyone. I catch myself chatting with myself lately. I'm not sure if I should be afraid. If there is nobody around to speak two words, what's wrong with being self-help? And considering the situation between people, I think the situation is not very dire.
I only eat water, cheese and bread. I don't mind any more. I do not know how long to wait like this. Now he comes, no, tonight will come for sure, and I have been spending eight days sleepless, half hungry in that sofa. Oh how fascinated me. The moment he entered, everyone, even the furniture in the house, was in silence. The longer I walked, the bigger my eyes grew, exceeding the height of anyone I knew, and it was almost touching the yard. There was another expression on his face, the day I couldn't decide whether it was day or night.
He looked at my mother's face with dignity that erased the lines of the years. How determined and fearless he was. What was my mother doing there that night? Hasn't he been dead long, she? Did he get permission from the other side? Did he smell the gossip or not, don't I know? He has always been like that, his habits throughout his life have not changed even when he dies. Frankly, it would be a lie if I said to my chill, my heart did not drip boiling water. For a moment, we set a barrier in front of those giant legs and say, “No, you can't enter. I will not let you take a step, I will not let you pass this threshold! Did you think I came all the way from the other side in vain? " I was about to choke my breath with my breath in case he was going to say. Fortunately, what I feared didn't happen, it saved me from the rotten vortex in which I was about to disappear, without feeling the pain like a competent dentist.
How terrifying it was. His hair, his face, and worst of all, were the sounds he made. He was trying insistently to make him believe that he was actually me. No, it wasn't me, I couldn't be, because I knew very well who he was. He was shouting madly, the brown spots surrounding the redness of his eyes, tending to his hair as well. Was I afraid of him, or was it that he would make me believe he was me? Madness cascaded unabashed, pulled deep into the ocean, drowning me inadvertently. I was seated on a brown wooden chair. And all around me, in a language not belonging to the earth, the songs were muttering, covered with angerful meanings.
I stopped and studied him, I left my mouth open so as not to drown. My mind could protect itself a little like that. I was faced with a creature between humans and animals. Moreover, his ugliness smelled unbearably heavy. With the tip of my nose stuck to the ground, my soul, anxious of its existence, would not admit its unpleasantness even if it just settled in a corner without doing anything.
Her eyes stuck to my face, blinded by the darkness of the madness, slippery. "You are what you see in me!" he said, ringing my voice freely.
Right at that moment, the endless light that pierced the ceiling of the house and all the ceilings in the apartment, tickled my stomach, appeared next to the chair I was in. He saved me from himself and whatever hurts me, turned into powdered candies, with his utmost power, indifference, and the unshakenness that I could not pull my being out of his sitting inside. My eyes met for the last time with his winding hands and his curious stinking. Then, for the last time, he watched him disappear when a slipper was thrown.
I've been waiting ever since, the moment it will come again. This time, without missing a single second, to lock the memory in the rooms of my mind moment by moment.
Love only feeds on innocence
Ever since I imitated sentence expertness,
I am in the context of undeniable routines and variations with the delusions of me.
I love the subject disappearing in a sentence,
Extending the word too much and dispersing its meaning,
I gathered your symptoms and I know
I will soon be allergic in a few years.
O my two eyes, the mistress of my heartfelt house,
Oh the lonely part of my life.
Believe me, I left the path of love,
I'm not waiting for you or someone else.
I don't want miracles in misfortune,
I just remained a sin in my Dirt.
God-creation-servant, I am in these three concepts,
I walk without a flashlight on my mind maps
Many times I fall into the dark.
Thinking is the work of the saints, I dream like an owl perched on a branch.
Time passed quickly, I could not grow up yet.
It's time to return and monk,
A few more drops of rain
A few lines of poetry.
