Just A Memory

It’s strange, isn’t it… we hate the pain, deny it, we repulse it and yet, in moments like this, it’s a welcomed visitor.  It makes you feel alive… if there isn’t pain, are you alive? It’s strange, my body is lying lifeless out there, nowhere. My heartstrings aren’t  stretched by the memories nor they make me smile, nor cry, nor crawl in agony. I guess corpses in the morgue “feel” that way – immaterial, lifeless, unexplainable. 

My eyelids are moving, life in terms of biology hasn’t left me yet, it’s still there. I want to laugh, but I can’t not because my facial muscles are paralyzed, there is no cable, no electricity connecting them and the head office, whatever it is. The connection is broken, but it doesn’t make the situation better or worse, it just doesn’t change. I fall into a condition of eternal, unchangeable non-existence.

Summertime...

 

" The Sun is mercilessly shining hot, the asphalt is vibrating on its knees for mercy and forgiveness. Somewhere out there, in the shadow of a tree stands one young man. Young, wild and filled with blood, which main component is Freedom, It’s not blood but lava. He sees into the future, there’s no “back”, no past, no suffering , only a feeling of completeness and entirety. His eyes are fixed into the future, into the sea, into the tropical vegetation, into the open spaces which are so eternal and endless.  He is breathing and with every breath he takes, the frequency of his heart increases in synchrony with the crawling excitement. I am looking for the reasons. Maybe he is in love, deep and pure love, Debelyanov’s love* and it’s a mutual love. These eyes are the eyes of dreamer in love! No, more likely he won the lotto, look at his childish happiness and joy. No, his mother and father bought him a car and the young man is feeling the future competition with the asphalt. No, it must be something more complicated, maybe all the reasons together. Or, just because of only one single reason: it’s Summer… he turns to me, a slight smile is cracking his face in confirmation – “ Yes, it’s Summer” is the thought he sends. I am leaving, it’s all fading away, the sun is setting in a gray shade of its pink-red magnificence."

Just a memory

 

The memories, the memories, they are still there… the sun… the sea… the summer. They will bring back life, they are Life, nothing else.

Yours,

Dimitroff

*D. Debelyanov - one of the best Bulgarian poets. Some people compare him with W. Shakespeare. He died fighting for Bulgaria during World War I. 

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