A little death around the eyes

I’ve been feeling recently as if nobody really listens, as if people REALLY stopped caring; perhaps people do stop caring after a while, when things are continuously the same (in a bad and in a good way). But I wish things could be different…

My current existence sums up to this moment right here, tears flowing down my cheek after watching another depressing movie from the pile next to the TV, lights off, nothing but the sound of bubbles from the fish tank and my trembling fingers softly hitting the right letters on my keyboard in this rather dark environment. I can feel how someone is yelling inside of me, I’ve been feeling it grow for the past few months (or maybe more, maybe). Recently I discovered a deep, hollow, emptiness aching everyday which was probably left there by the lack of someone, anyone in my life; I came to that conclusion simply because the yelling has caused my ears to cry but nobody has even noticed it, because there’s no one to notice it. 

I feel just like in one of those recurrent movie scenes: black, infinite background; a chair in the middle of the absolute abyss with me sitting on it, eyes filled with some sort of nostalgic crap, while the camera moves away quickly… Leaving a blurry spot in the middle of the screen. That’s me, screaming for help… A few nice words would do… 

Hello? I’m barely here.

Green tea, cigarettes and loneliness go hand by hand… By hand.

Me ví correr entre marañas agitadas en la oscuridad de la noche, llorando, llorando. Todo tan surreal, todo tan agradable; un hombre desnudo con pocas plumas y cabeza de guacamaya me gritaba “sigue, sigue!” sin poder seguir el mismo, atrapado en el suelo, pendiente de niñas melancólicas perdidas en las sombras ahogando poco a poco su preciado entorno caótico. Qué enredo! Sentía como cada hilo me quemaba al atraversarlo, y escuchaba al grupo jovial de orquídeas de labios carmín reirse con cada paso, con cada gemido al correr por las redes, ellas plantadas persiguiéndome sin quemarse; se preguntarán por qué corro si me duele tanto, a dónde voy! Seguramente el hombre emplumado no lo sabía, pero no quería que lo terminara de ahogar. Ahogada iba yo, con la piel sensible gritando “basta,” celosa de todas las divinas criaturas burlándose de mi carrera… Pero bastó un segundo para que se esfumaran con la luz que me tomó por sorpresa en mi maldita cama, aún escuchando sus risas, sus gemidos… Reacios a marcharse.