I'm there staring. And I see the same desperation.
Emotions. An explosion of them. And an ache.
And ache to belong, to be understood, to give up everything for ..Something they can't define.
My disgust for weakness in essence makes me repulsed by that image, yet the sadist in me finds herself smilling.
I won. It's over. It's done.
That person understood where/what his answer is.
And it's Me. In flesh. In essence. In what I think and am.
And I get to decide what happens next.
Just like that.
It's a power that scares most, especially the victim and their acknowledgement that they found their match and purpose.
And I could simply reach my hand and grab them.
But I don't.
Because the game is not over. It has just began.
''Why don't you tear my world apart?''
''Sharp lines S.?''
I look up and see my painting teacher smilling at me.
Is that wrong?
''No. But it does says a lot about you. Do you want to know what it means?''
I suppose It could be interesting.
'Full control. Inner balance. Logical thinking. That's you.''
You make me seem horrible.
'Not horrible. Different. Out of the ordinary.
Asians would love you. They love a twisted creativity. They'd love your work also. You should move to Japan. ''
I don't know anyone there..
''True. But everybody would know your name and really fast I might add.''
It's a quiet evening and I find myself drawing geometric figures.
Complex ones. With dark edges. And light ones.
Spectacular in their complexity. With no flaw. And a complex pattern.
And the world shuts down for minutes, hours.
While everything makes sense.
''You can't be like this just because. You've meditated for years. No one can simply do this just like that. Tell me how you do it.''
I look at this man that earns a living by fixing relationships and pushing people towards a spiritual path and I smile.
How should I tell you this? I'm not actually the kind that can sit in a corner and babble some words.
''Meditation isn't just that and you know it. You've been doing it since you were a child, didn't you?''
Since I was 2 years old I think.
''What do you plan to do with it?''
Do you find me that scary?
''Yes.''
No one seems to sit anymore for a moment and enjoy things.
Fine perfumes, fine wines, fine foods. Moments in between moments. Senses that explode and then shut down. Pain that's shut down and locked forever just so it might explode for a few seconds at high intensity. The world is compressed in a feeling. And Pressed until it can't take it anymore. Same problem with people.
And they wait. For that perfect moment in time to let it all loose.
Everything out. Exposed. Vulnerable.
All while I simple watch.
Unmoved.
Being terrible.
So you want me to make it easier for you?
Not in a thousands years.
Emotions. An explosion of them. And an ache.
And ache to belong, to be understood, to give up everything for ..Something they can't define.
My disgust for weakness in essence makes me repulsed by that image, yet the sadist in me finds herself smilling.
I won. It's over. It's done.
That person understood where/what his answer is.
And it's Me. In flesh. In essence. In what I think and am.
And I get to decide what happens next.
Just like that.
It's a power that scares most, especially the victim and their acknowledgement that they found their match and purpose.
And I could simply reach my hand and grab them.
But I don't.
Because the game is not over. It has just began.
''Why don't you tear my world apart?''
''Sharp lines S.?''
I look up and see my painting teacher smilling at me.
Is that wrong?
''No. But it does says a lot about you. Do you want to know what it means?''
I suppose It could be interesting.
'Full control. Inner balance. Logical thinking. That's you.''
You make me seem horrible.
'Not horrible. Different. Out of the ordinary.
Asians would love you. They love a twisted creativity. They'd love your work also. You should move to Japan. ''
I don't know anyone there..
''True. But everybody would know your name and really fast I might add.''
It's a quiet evening and I find myself drawing geometric figures.
Complex ones. With dark edges. And light ones.
Spectacular in their complexity. With no flaw. And a complex pattern.
And the world shuts down for minutes, hours.
While everything makes sense.
''You can't be like this just because. You've meditated for years. No one can simply do this just like that. Tell me how you do it.''
I look at this man that earns a living by fixing relationships and pushing people towards a spiritual path and I smile.
How should I tell you this? I'm not actually the kind that can sit in a corner and babble some words.
''Meditation isn't just that and you know it. You've been doing it since you were a child, didn't you?''
Since I was 2 years old I think.
''What do you plan to do with it?''
Do you find me that scary?
''Yes.''
No one seems to sit anymore for a moment and enjoy things.
Fine perfumes, fine wines, fine foods. Moments in between moments. Senses that explode and then shut down. Pain that's shut down and locked forever just so it might explode for a few seconds at high intensity. The world is compressed in a feeling. And Pressed until it can't take it anymore. Same problem with people.
And they wait. For that perfect moment in time to let it all loose.
Everything out. Exposed. Vulnerable.
All while I simple watch.
Unmoved.
Being terrible.
So you want me to make it easier for you?
Not in a thousands years.