3 AM, t-shirt and shorts, a small fire by the lake.
Life couldn’t be any better in times like these.
Surrounded by friends, your head resting on my shoulder.
With a cold beer in my hand I try to imitate the rhythm of your breathing.
I would trade everything for a warm summer night.
Hot smoke and black coffee coursing through my body like a snake, slowly choking its prey. The priest’s been dead for a long time now, no longer preaching lies upon his high horse.
The snow never burned so hot on my skin as I set fire to the bridges that connect my island to the past. The cold sea lies still, the souls have sunk so low.
If you are the boulder in my river, I have to move you out of the way somehow. I’ll slowly turn you into sand and let you drown in me. The current is too strong for you to dwell in one place.
The bridges are hanging by a thread, dilapidated and on the brink of collapse. My time has come.
With blurry eyes you’re looking at the epmtiness in front of you. You try to make sense out of your situation but it feels like you’re lost in a dream.
Your house is on fire and you’re painting the walls. This is fine. Just like you expected it to be.
An empty heart doesn’t have high standards for happiness. You’re living in the moment, savouring every last second of it.
The sun is smiling at you as you turn left towards the riverside. You sit down next to a stranded bottle. The message reads “all is not lost”. In the distance, a shimmer of hope is dancing on the water. Swim. Swim, and it shall burn brighter.
Carefree for once.
No longer lost, no longer on the way to the end.
Solitude, once so frightening, soothing now.
A dim shimmer of hope, a single spark in the night, tiny, almost invisible. It will burn like a forest fire when the day comes.
The darkness still surrounds me but I can see a bit better now.
I’ve accepted what life has given me. No longer focusing on the bad but looking forward to the good.
Eyes closing and opening at a rapid pace.
I blink when I lie.
“What do you think of the moon?” she asked.
“That’s a weird question,” I said.
“I know. But the answers are very interesting.”
“Alright then,” I began, “I think he’s a spineless bitch.”
She stared at me for a second. Then she laughed heartily. “Did you seriously just call the moon a bitch?” she asked, still laughing.
“I did. I mean, he’s so co-dependent. Without the sun he’d be nothing. He’s a loser who can’t do anything on his own. I very much relate to that.” I smiled.
She laughed again at my joke and shook her head in disbelief. “The moon is a bitch,” she murmured.
I could feel her hand grabbing mine. She rested her head on my shoulder and looked at the city lights in front of us. It was about 11 PM on a february night and it was freezing. The two of us weren’t wearing more than a t-shirt and a jacket and I had lost the feeling in my feet. Nevertheless, we didn’t care about the cold. It would’ve been a waste of time to worry about freezing. We were trying to enjoy the moment to its fullest and time was running out. With every passing minute it seemed to accelerate like it wanted to escape from our happiness. I tried not to think about the fact that she had to leave soon. Because once she did, everything would be shitty again. Reality would come running round the corner with its fists raised, ready to punch me in the face to remind me of my frustrating life. The thoughts about my job and responsibilities would come crawling back to overtake my mind and I would again be left to suffocate in the vacuum of real life. But for now, I was happy. I was relaxed and calm, without a single fuck to give about anything else than her.
“I need you,” I said, breaking the silence that had slowly surrounded us. She lifted her head from my shoulder and looked at me. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“You keep my feet on the ground. You are the reason I still have the strength to get out of bed every morning. Without you, I would be nothing. Like the moon.” I smiled at that unintentional analogy. “You’re my sun. Your light shines through me and gives me warmth. Your touch fills me with life. I need you, because without you I would get lost in the darkness.”
She didn’t say anything. She just kissed me. Softly, but with purpose.
“If this is your way of saying shut up then I’m never gonna stop talking,” I said with a childish grin.
“You’re ruining it.”
“I know,” I replied, “I’m quite good at that.”
With these words I pulled her closer. She kissed my cheek. Her lips were warm as the morning sun and I felt like my whole body was being filled with a powerful energy.
“I have to go now,” she said. Immediately I was aware of the freezing cold and the darkness. She kissed me again and then left.
There I was, in the same place I always am, all alone in the deep, merciless void of reality.
It might sound crazy but I miss being sad.
For half a year I have felt like absolute shit. Now I have a girlfriend, I’m going through a major change in my life and I am genuinely happy. Like, there’s absolutely nothing for me to feel sad about at the moment. You might think now “That’s awesome, what the fuck is this guy upset about?”. And you’re absolutely right. I’m happy. And I’m enjoying the shit out of it, too. But for some reason, I have started to miss the times of sadness. When I felt alone and was drowning in self-pity. I’d be sitting at home with a glass of whisky and writing. I love writing. It’s my way to cope with pain. And when a time of pain is upon me, I write basically anything, really. Songtexts, mostly, but also poems, short stories or continue my book. And when the time has passed, I can read whatever I have written and in a way see my old self. It’s really like looking at the past and realizing how much I’ve grown since then. That’s one thing I miss about being sad: the inspiration and creativity that derives from it (at least in my case).
However, that’s not the only thing I miss. I’ve mentioned self-pity and, believe me, it’s a great thing in a kind of sick way. It’s an extremely arrogant character trait. It just works in the opposite way of “normal” arrogance: arrogance boosts our ego and makes us feel better about ourselves. It’s more of a character flaw than a trait, of course. Nevertheless, it gives us validation. With self pity, it’s really the same thing. Only that instead of boosting our ego, it diminishes it. Instead of feeling good about ourselves, it makes us feel extremely bad. And, in a way, that’s an awesome condition to be in. Self pity helps us perceive ourselves as the poorest piece of shit in the world. We become so obsessed with pitying and hating ourselves that we can forget everything that’s happening around us. It sucks us in like a tornado and doesn’t let go until we have puked out every last bit of sorrow. We become extremely self-important and couldn’t give less fucks about anyone or anything else. And I for one find that to be wildly liberating.
Of course, all in all, being sad sucks. Moreover, self-pity can have quite destructive effects and consequences. That’s why, in times of sadness, we should always try to make something productive out of it. Be it writing songtexts, cleaning up, reading a book etc. It’s not about what we do but rather about doing something. Because the worst thing that can happen is looking back at a time of feeling like shit and realizing that it was a complete waste. I know that’s probably a dumb thing to say but in the end, it’s really just about not regretting the time.
Now, I’m not sure if this makes sense to anyone but thank you for reading.