When the final leaf escapes from the body of the tree -not to settle down on the ground, but to get blown away by the wind - or what else life has to offer. That moment when you hear the clicking sound of the remaining, death, tiny stick, that attaches the leaf to the tree, breaking. That's when I'm coming to the edge and my mind wants nothing so badly but to be seperated from the body - and the actions I make aren't even genuine anymore. Because what I first said about the tree is a metaphor. And it means that I'm mentally ready to escape from my own physical limits. For my mind is trapped inside of a non-working body but a non-stoping death machine - and it sure is killing me.
Slowly.
People say your mind always works 7 minutes after the heart stops beating well guess what: My heart will always beat even though the rest of my body has abandoned me. You see; I can disagree with my body, if I need to, but I can't leave it. I can't - even though I dream of it - leave my body to settle down in someone else's.
It's not difficult to find bodies I would rather wear than my own. Bodies that are put in a certain position that I'd love to find myself in. Bodies that are alive. The closest I come to wear these bodies and their lifes is to connect with them; to feel the weight of their bodies in my hands, to have their lips pressed against mine - connecting. To get to be a moment of their lifes. And I always envy these people and their states. It's like I'm asking for an exange of our lifes but I know that i only get to taste theirs. so I try to wear the scent of these lifes as long as possible. So that i can - when being trapped inside of myself - Just smell the flavour of their lives and just for a nanosecond - I am actually able to leave.
Du skriver vackert. Jag saknar dig.
ReplyDelete