To people who’ll never know #04

August 17th, 2008

“Who is your favorite writer?”
“I don’t know. I don’t read books”
“Okay”

“Take it”
“What’s this?”
“Paulo Coelho’s “Eleven Minutes”. I didn’t find another”
“Do I have to read it?”
“Please”

August 19th, 2008

“What do you want to do today?”
“I want some chocolate”
We went to a market. He bought two bars and gave one to me.
“Fat and happy,” he said.

I wanted to ask if he still wants to die, but I didn’t dare to. I was afraid to damage everything. Anyway, there were just two weeks elapsed.
“Have you read it?”
“A bit,” he said with his mouth full of chocolate. “I liked it. I’ll finish it after some days. Do you have more books by this writer?”

Night

I sit and stare to the moon.
Muse – Starlight:

Far away
The ship is taking me far away
Far away from my memories
Of the people who care if I live or die…

Let’s conspire to ignite
All the souls that would die just to feel alive…

August 20th, 2008

“Listen that song”
“Who is it performed by?”
“Muse”
“What song?”
“Starlight”

“Nice”
“I know”
“I should download it”

He wouldn’t download it if he’s about to die. But nobody knows other people. Just presume.
And they don’t know and don’t presume anything about different from them.

We were walking down the river.
“Today is full moon,” I said.
“It is often full”
“Full moon looks beautiful”
“I sleep at nights”
“I don’t. Maybe tonight I’ll go to some field to watch it. It doesn’t look so well through the window”
“At what time?”
“At midnight”
“I’ll come. When will we meet?”

Midnight

Muse – Map of the Problematique:

When we bleed we bleed the same

I was laying in the middle of the field. I felt that he’s near me.
It was cold. I almost couldn’t feel the ground.
I wanted to cry. I couldn’t accept the fact that he will be gone soon.
Now I really knew that I fell in love with him.
There was someone who stood my existence.
I started to cry. Tears were running down my cheeks and dropping on the ground. I was afraid that he’ll ask something. I didn’t want him to hear my hysterical weepy voice. Or that I start sniffing.
“It‘s cold,” he said.
Then moved closer to me.
My head was next to his legs, and his head was next to my legs, and he couldn’t see my tears.
That was good.
I would have started crying and we would have ran away.
Who likes cryful snotty people?