I am not Sylvia Plath

Posted in Uncategorized la 2:27 pm de narfx

I once wrote that “I’m no good with words” and someone asked me if it wouldn’t rather be “not” instead of “no”. I replied that it wasn’t the case and that it worked just as well. The two implied, nonetheless, different meanings to the phrase. I don’t have a way with words, for they do not sing to my readers, nor is their silence heartbreaking. They are not glass bells like those of trully outspoken writers. I am not Sylvia Plath. The connections that I build between me and the world are not bridges, but merely gates, slightly open, just enough for passers by to notice them. And yet, none of them was curious enough to willingly enter. I have posted no sign above the gates, nor is there any memory in the shape of a man that was, guarding the entrance. My words are simple; I hold no truth, for I don’t believe in it. If you name stability truth, then I might grant you that we, as psichologically patterned animals are subjected to some sort of a truth. But outside nature, there are no words for this power that people seek. Their twisted fabricated nuances are senseless. They do not define anything and they cannot hold anything down. You can’t stop the world from being what it is, not with words. Some speak softly, others ask, others beg and others scream in the most heart throbbing tone of voice.

And then there’s the silence.

That awful state of mind where the light is always too bright and the crowd is always too loud. The slow understanding that what you thought you knew is rapidly slipping through your fingers. There is no truth. People often talk about the void in their hearts, the lack of any emotion or about how time seems to stop for a while. But I know that’s just how the waiting feels. The long desperate waiting for air. The after-life of the past you. The grasp for tragedy in its most voluble form. The change.

And then there’s the tacit recovery.

Realising that the sun will always shine so bright and that people will never cease to laugh so loud over meaningless things. The gates remain open. The need for being aware does not die. This is the only truth I know.