Hi...
My voice is slightly lower than normally.
I lower my eyes and try to hide my palms in the pockets of my dress so that you would not notice how i clench my fingers around my thumbs to hide my embarrassment, and then I finally muster the courage and look straight into your eyes...
How have you been?
I sometimes think of you.... I try to imagine the expression of your face when you are reading all these letters, words and sentences... Do they mean anything to you? Do they turn into images in your head or do they enter your mind as a more or less logical stream of words that I stitched together into a sentence?
What are you thinking about while running through my innermost thoughts? Do they remind you of the images from your life? Do you try to imagine who I am? Or do you simply laugh secretly at a silly girl with her naive imagination?
I wonder who you are and which roads brought you here... Have you come here before? And if you did then what made you come back?
Would you recognise me in the street? Would you be able to feel the energies hidden in my words? Would they make you drift towards me? Or would you just pass by looking blankly at this not very sophisticated face of a girl standing somewhere in the corner of the room far away from the crowd.
You sometimes come to me to say that you enjoyed my writing... Sometimes you even comment and ask if i managed to find solutions to the things i'm talking about... But i always wonder how much of it really reaches your being... Are you really the person I wanted to tell all these? Can a person really become engrossed in another person's existence?
I always wanted you to touch my thoughts... To stand naked in front of you and feel the touch of your hand on those innermost impressions that i painted with my mind... but your indifference always make me wear an extra layer of silence or anger and pushes me more and more towards the corner...
Conversations with myself... Conversations with you...
Who are you? Do I know you? Would you come up to me to say hi... i understand...
Silence all around...
That terrible void that nobody can fulfill... This deep void that is dying for you to come and share those tiny bits of life... Loneliness in the crowd of people... How come only some people experience it?
Where are you? You know... I sat on a threshold again today... The caterpillar is still there... I watch it everyday as it savours on the leaves of my plant... I read today that for some it may take a few weeks before they turn to butterflies... I didn't know... I always thought that this process is much faster... I'm tired of waiting... I would want to see the butterfly on my leaf... And I would like to finally strike a good note after so many false ones...
I'm looking into your eyes... I'm scared to say anything... I want to say something, but then I just turn and walk away...
Will you stop me? Will you stay? Will you come here again?
My voice is slightly lower than normally.
I lower my eyes and try to hide my palms in the pockets of my dress so that you would not notice how i clench my fingers around my thumbs to hide my embarrassment, and then I finally muster the courage and look straight into your eyes...
How have you been?
I sometimes think of you.... I try to imagine the expression of your face when you are reading all these letters, words and sentences... Do they mean anything to you? Do they turn into images in your head or do they enter your mind as a more or less logical stream of words that I stitched together into a sentence?
What are you thinking about while running through my innermost thoughts? Do they remind you of the images from your life? Do you try to imagine who I am? Or do you simply laugh secretly at a silly girl with her naive imagination?
I wonder who you are and which roads brought you here... Have you come here before? And if you did then what made you come back?
Would you recognise me in the street? Would you be able to feel the energies hidden in my words? Would they make you drift towards me? Or would you just pass by looking blankly at this not very sophisticated face of a girl standing somewhere in the corner of the room far away from the crowd.
You sometimes come to me to say that you enjoyed my writing... Sometimes you even comment and ask if i managed to find solutions to the things i'm talking about... But i always wonder how much of it really reaches your being... Are you really the person I wanted to tell all these? Can a person really become engrossed in another person's existence?
I always wanted you to touch my thoughts... To stand naked in front of you and feel the touch of your hand on those innermost impressions that i painted with my mind... but your indifference always make me wear an extra layer of silence or anger and pushes me more and more towards the corner...
Conversations with myself... Conversations with you...
Who are you? Do I know you? Would you come up to me to say hi... i understand...
Silence all around...
That terrible void that nobody can fulfill... This deep void that is dying for you to come and share those tiny bits of life... Loneliness in the crowd of people... How come only some people experience it?
Where are you? You know... I sat on a threshold again today... The caterpillar is still there... I watch it everyday as it savours on the leaves of my plant... I read today that for some it may take a few weeks before they turn to butterflies... I didn't know... I always thought that this process is much faster... I'm tired of waiting... I would want to see the butterfly on my leaf... And I would like to finally strike a good note after so many false ones...
I'm looking into your eyes... I'm scared to say anything... I want to say something, but then I just turn and walk away...
Will you stop me? Will you stay? Will you come here again?
