I have always been a person who likes everything clean. If a mess was made I would be the first to help a hand in cleaning it up. Everything has his own place. Every detail should be taken care of. If your household is a mess you join hands in cleaningit up. By putting all to place you get the satisfaction of a job well done. But what about the mess which is not so clear to see?
It’s a mess I say to my self while sitting in a house cleaned up into every detail. It’s a mess I still repeat. What am I talking about? My senses are working fine, my vision is really clear and my effort was well spend but still it’s a mess I hear my self say out loud. The mess I am referring to is not one to touch, not one to see and not one to clean up by physical effort. I wish we could but its complicated. Well explain to me, most friends will say. To avoid the mess inside, I turn out the light, sneak in to a corner and try to disappear. Usually I don’t get tired of cleaning up. I can clean up all day. My mom most of the time told me, when you are cleaning its like your possessed by a demon trying to clean up its mess. I had the strength and will to do so. But this mess is a different level. I tried cleaning it up, but despite the fact that I understood what the mess is about I just shifted it, got to see it better and understood what the mess was about. Knowing what you have to clean up is step number 1. Now that I know I just know. The strength is missing, the will is gone and the patience is used.
The mess I build up is like a thorn in to my eyes. It’s a reflection of my failure, a mirror of my decreasing self-worth and a maze of my unknown future. Well we all have our ups and our downs but what about if you start building your existence in the downs? What about the house you build there, the mess you make there? What about the darkness you live in? I like the dark is my response. It frightens me, but heals my sight. I like the dark. Its comfortable even if it makes it hard to find. Just turn it out!
Note to self:
Just turn it out, It’s better that way,
my eyes are hurting my vision is grey
My voice starts shaking, my words lose sense
My feet are helpless, so are my hands
My tongue is prisoned, my lips are sealed
My head is messy and it wont get healed
My heart is beating a note that tries
My life is blurry cause my vision cries
My inspiration has lost motivation
My inner self is in search of salvation
My sense of breathing is slowing down
My sense of understanding is upsidedown
It takes a minute to realise
A few more minutes to finalize
I told them I am living this crazy ride
But the truth is I lied, I have been death for years but just from the inside
By Sodaba Abibzay