every picture is a story

waking up to an embracing darkness and rain, i did sleep well, hasn’t happened in months, pretty much since the night when we met and there were more tears than words, more silence than food, more wine than words. to be fair, that fish served has been longer dead than alive (that is actually another life anchor points, death last longer always). for once i wasn’t the one responsible for her sadness, maybe this is why i didn’t know how to react. artists always self-absorb in their own view of the world to the point of disconnect. i am no artist but i know about disconnection. maybe the french wine brought suddenly the existential angst, french can teach you about existentialism anytime, they took monopoly of that, like me adding inane comment to my thought to avoid having to think about what happened. i don’t like me very much sometimes but i am trapped in my delusions. have i changed subject again? i told you i can’t escape my weaknesses.

she is an improbable woman, a perfect mix of strength and weaknesses, she could make me fly or knocked me out with few words, ha not even words, with just a glimpse of her gaze. those eyes have traveled farther than any thoughts we mere men can contemplate. those eyes have looked in her own soul much deeper and beyond what we called uncharted territory of the self. but that night, there was too much of pains and suffers that I could fathom. i didn’t know how to console, my ability to reach out was darkened. it looked so impossible of a task, sysyphus only can relate. so i drank and smoked and said inadequate, boring and common things. she was celebrating me that night and i failed miserably like only men know how with women. why women can never fail us as much as we fail them, maybe if they could that would help us.

we met still after but i don’t know if my insecurities have been exacerbated by my sub-par performance as a friend, or if she realized that i wasn’t the one who can make her reach higher, but god she already flies so high and i am still extracting myself from the dirt of my past wrong decisions. over all this time i may have let her down many times and she didn’t mind, but this time i knew it and it shattered my soul

nothing has changed yet nothing seems the same anymore.