Tag: photography

Misty Stroll

The mist engulfed and fully drowned my mind,
Sheltered me tight from memories and sounds,
Pinned drops upon my hair to shine bright,
My eyes luminescent, reflecting stormy clouds.

The mist has filled my head with fuzzy thoughts,
Merged into muffled piles of tangled words.
What is my poetry but clash of rusty swords?
Dissatisfied, I’m stuck, I feel remorse.

Drowned in longing, soft and gray despair,
Sentenced to swim in humid, heavy air,
Struggling with questions, looming everywhere,
Well, am I worthy? How could I stop caring?

At times, I feel I’m nothing but a failure.
Not fit for this material existence,
Where one must be a quick decisive leader.
But in imaginative, misty distance,
Perhaps there is a place for such as me.

The fog engulfed and fully drowned my mind.
The water drops are dancing in my hair,
As if I bathed in the primeval sea of light,
And plunged into its dusky depths prepared

Of finding jewels of the highest truth,
Scattered in the quietest seabed,
Mingled with the dark, cloudy sand.
I wake up from this fantasy, I move…

The trees became the castles and old bridges,
The music plays as always, storm and chaos.
I wish it rained at once.

© MarvellousNightmare on Coconut Doesn’t Exist

You can contact me via leomoria93@outlook.com

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False Memories (Part 2)

Part 1
Part 3
Part 4

DISCLAIMER: the events and the characters mentioned in this story are the product of the author’s imagination

And all of a sudden, the alarm went off. I was so astonished I sat up straight in an instant, looking around with incredulity: I was home! Could it all have been just a vivid nightmare then? Somehow, I seriously doubted that. I didn’t remember going to sleep; quite the opposite, I could perfectly recall every bitter detail of yesterday’s quarrel. I sneezed – exactly. I also had no doubts that I was drenched by rain while parading the night streets in shorts and unzipped. Still, I was in my bed, in pajamas, my yesterday’s clothes hanging on the chairs’ back. 

In addition to all that, I got a splitting headache. The light – even this murky tender morning light which happens only right before dawn – seemed to be dazzling. I was completely disoriented. I stood up with a moan, and the whole world became blurred and shaky. Besides, my feet were still in pain. I sat down again.

The light was a problem here; I knew that it somehow affected the way I feel, so I decided to pull down the curtains and think. My eyesight was distorted; I couldn’t look directly at any object: my headache immediately returned magnified one thousand times. So I closed my eyes and started retracing yesterday’s walk, or rather my escape from home. 

First and foremost – we quarreled. Two adult sisters living together is… hm, a challenging task. If only we had enough money and the place we could go we’d leave each other immediately. But as for now, we had neither choice, nor sources. 

We were so different: She and I. Martha was brave and charismatic, always the center of attention. The awareness of that made Her addicted to the admiration of the crowd. My Sister spent all Her time on social media, impressing the public with retouched selfies and generated quotes, forgetting that these were fabricated lies that had little to do with her real self.

Continue reading “False Memories (Part 2)” →
3

False Memories (Part 1)

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

DISCLAIMER: the events and the characters mentioned in this story are the product of the author’s imagination

I guess it all began the moment I slammed the door loudly, causing the tiny rivers and streams of stone dust and chalk to run down onto the floor. I quickly scrutinized the tiny crevices and cracks around the doorframe – eternal remnants of my mood swings and our bitter quarrels… I ran down the steps diving into the silver moonlight that stole all the colors of this world except for black and white… 

I could discern the catlike silhouettes in the silver slits of windows. All the voices from different flats were mixed and united in one preaching chorus, and all the graffities and scribbles that casually adorned the staircase during the day now were turned into magical patterns and figures. Like cavemen, we continue on and on to mark our achievements, wishes and feelings, etching them deep into the wall.

The entrance door swung open, welcoming the wet, damp wind to fill the darkness. A few rare cool drops of rain fell on my face, mingling and mixing with tears, calming me, reviving and suddenly filling everything with a sense of hope again. I went out, looking up at the sky and breathing deeply, trying to regain composure. My jacket was unzipped carelessly, my strides were long and bold… It was an attempt to become one with the wind, one with the coming storm, to cast off all formalities, reject the laws of physics, and fly over the earth in elemental fury.

A burning array of yellow windows was outlined brightly against the gray carcasses of the buildings, almost indiscernible in the surrounding darkness… I wish I could say the same about the drunken crowd of people, who were shouting and cursing loudly, while checking out the surroundings with an immense hunger for destruction. So I halted for a moment, praying to become invisible. 

Continue reading “False Memories (Part 1)” →
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