Sunday, 8 November 2015


I drift away. Inside suffocating train carriages that overflow with people one minute and are hauntingly empty the next. The voices echo regardless of that. The scenario is a constant blur of buildings merging right into the meadows, glimpses of sunsets somewhere and black clouds of smoke rising from the various brick kilns that dot the landscape. Sometimes a sheet of fog to obscure your vision, so perfect. As if nothing beyond exists.

I drift away, sitting on a crazy ride, right before emotions clash. The world is a bokeh of lights, through my eyes. Not a thing is clear besides the feeling of being seated surrounded by people who mutter incoherence. And then, exhilaration, excitement, fear, regret and wills clash as if it’s a war for life. And it is, in a way. Even the colorful bokeh of lights spin into a crazy whirlwind that shows patches of light. Hanging upside down, spinning 360 degrees in a constant struggle to breathe and live with an aching body and a spinning head.

I drift away in darkened rooms that are illuminated only by the light that escapes the huge screen casting shadows on the faces that cower in fear of the horror that suddenly flashes on the screen and shakes their hearts violently. They turn eagerly towards each other to make sure they are in the same company and no one has turned into the dreadfulness on the screen. It’s a futile reassurance, but one that satisfies.

Through all, I catch glimpses of myself, through my own eyes, not caught in reflections of mirrors, but rather that of the mind; staring out the window, hanging upside down, screaming my lungs out and staring blankly at the screen. Just glimpses that last for a split seconds, before I lose myself in the crowd.