the darkness
little by little the darkness covering what stands out there in front of me. watching it carelessly. leaves are falling from the trees. as soon as they hit the ground the darkness is covering them. vision is blurry. not possible to distinguish leaves and ground. sound is muted. the darkness not only brings invisibility with itself, it sucks up all the sounds, even the sound that is heard when the leaves hit the ground.
mountains watching each other. doing nothing to prevent the darkness. the inevitable end gradually approaches. the darkness seems to be unbreakable, unstoppable, inevitable, etc. probably, this is not what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. unstoppable force meets movable objects including this being viewing the world through jelly cow eyes. witnessing what’s happening is as painful as what one can imagine. things stand still. leaves keep falling. mountains are as always. all is waiting for the darkness to cover them, paint them to black, and mute them, recklessly.
what’s happening is as rave as watching it. could it because of it feels like when one doesn’t want to get out of the bed in the morning? the bed is warm and comfortable. who wants to leave the bed and face the reality out there? no one!
the darkness injects something to the veins of what encounters what the darkness does. though what’s has been done by the darkness makes all feel good, all knows there’s no turning back. no coming back. even the leaves know that. all is dead when the darkness accomplishes what it’s doing.
keep doing what you’re supposed to do, the darkness. it feels good, at least for now.
mesmerised
slicing memories into small pieces with a not sharp knife in my dream last night. it’s the same dream i’ve had dozens of times. it’s not day or night in these dreams. it’s kinda half-night. the atmosphere is gloomy. i’m scared like i can’t tell. i get even more frightened when i see how i slaughter memories of mine with people in my dream without any slightest sense of compassion. couldn’t stop myself though. keep doing it. but it never ends. there is always something left behing, something not being ruined by my hands. at some point, a sense of enjoyment shakes me. then i see there’s nothing left, nothing is standing in front of me. all is dead. the lives are taken. everything is over. a song is echoing, whose melody and lyrics are forgotten. still, i remember it. i loved it once upon a time. listening to it. making small manoeuveres with my head to see my success/failure. music is echoing still. nothing is moving around me. looking at my hand for a while. a sticky-stinky black liquid covering my hands. shape of my hands are not even recognizable. yet i know they are still there and belong to me. black liquid is not standing still. it’s like vibrating. how comes? i’m not hallucinating. i’m still where i have been always. nothing has changed. me and others/memories are remaining the same. the light is the same. however, i don’t see any reason for strange movements of liquid on my hands. it looks like alive. i’m mesmerised. my eyes are getting bigger and bigger. gazing at it. it’s vibrating, moving, growing… don’t feel my hands even arms anymore. liquid is moving upwards. i don’t see it but i know it’s now covering my shoulders and moving onto my chest. all is happening under my shirt…and the picture is frozen. nothing is moving anymore. don’t sense anything at all. knowing that i’m still in a dream though…
frightening
A: This is the girl!
B: Hey, that girl is not in my film.
A: It’s no longer your film.
A terrifying scene from Mulholland Drive directed by David Lynch.
leave a comment