A weboldal tartalmának másolása tilos, szerzői jogvédelem alatt áll.
Sugar at the bottom of the tea
My typical hobby is to explore how sugar melts. It gets a warm bath, and then the sugar itself warms up and melts, being not separate but one with the warm water; just like a couple.
I remember, when my mom said to me that I will be a beautiful lady and boys will die for my love. One half of me say that nobody will ever love me, they will hate me because I hurt them all, although my other half denies, because I do love. I would love. But nobody loves me back. If somebody loves me, I’m unable to show the love that’s inside me, because whenever I do it, they just leave, without explanation. Most of the time, I feel like my heart is in my head. I see things that I would really love to come true. I see love. I see myself loving another, and I see others loving me. I see my stolen life.
I watched a photo-tape running in front of my eyes. I worked at a pub and I asked my neighbour to come and get me. At 3.30 a.m, he arrived. His friend burnt in a fire-accident at the place where they both would be. Maybe, if I don’t ask him to come, maybe, he would burn too. Is it fate? I will never know. He said that, I was the best thing that happened to him lately. He whispered “You are the first one I can love. I don’t want to let you go, because I am alive again! Feeling that I love someone truly and honestly helped me. You saved my life.” But really, its kind a funny and ironic; I think you saved me first, and you brought me to life before I had the ability to drag you back. I smoked my cigarettes. I blew the smoke, and I was the smoke. I released my inner self in the substance of that grey stuff. I am dancing and enjoying life. No problems, just the air. No hurts, just feelings. No tears, just smile.
Then I woke up, the reality hit me in the face –I don’t even smoke. I am just a girl who doesn’t want to wake up from the dream. I was the neighbour boy’s imaginary love, and he is mine.
This afternoon when I arrived home, I was sugar at the bottom of the teacup; I’ve got a warm bath of water, I tried to melt, but I couldn’t. The water wasn’t hot enough. The dream wasn’t real enough. I had strawberry tea and lemon on top of me, but I was just sugar, left at the bottom of the cup.
Kollár Barbara
Pszichiátria Magazint a Nemzeti Média- és Hírközlési Hatóság, nyilvántartásba vette, hivatalos elektronikus sajtótermékként!
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A weboldal tartalmának másolása tilos, szerzői jogvédelem alatt áll.
