sometimes you lie awake at night and things you've drowned deep inside your mind suddenly surfaced, giving you no chance to drown it back. you're surprised because you thought those boxes were already gone. you tied them to a balloon and they flew away into the clouds.
but there they are. sealed like the last time you saw them.
you tried balloon last time, so you try a heavy rock this time. too bad that bridge was already burned. you can't push them to the shore and off to the sea because you're afraid. afraid that it's you who's going to get drowned while those boxes laughing at you. you don't want that. so you decide to unseal the box.
one of those boxes is now unsealed. but it's still closed. you hesitated. you don't want to open it. you wish that box would just disappear. so that you don't have to choose: opening that box or unsealing yet another box. but you still have to chose. and so you chose the latter.
another one is unsealed. now you have to choose again. and so you unseal another. and another, until nothing's left. your palms are sweating now. you try to search for another option so that you don't have to open those boxes but there's none.
you try to kick away the fear. it escaped your heart only to stay in your hands.
you reach a box and put it on your lap. you feel like Pandora now. but she only got one while you got many. the gods left it in her hands but yours came from yourself. with that box on your lap, still you hesitated. you can wait forever but deep down you know you can't run forever. you're tired.
so you open that box.
you hold your breath while it take you down the memory lane. not that time when you laugh till you cry though. nor that time when people congratulate you on your birthday, your wedding, your son's birthday, or your son's wedding. not those times. because you remember real well you didn't put laughter and happiness locked inside some boxes. you let them roam freely inside your heart.
what greets you when you open that box is a wind. a sad, weeping wind. you can hear people crying when it blows your face and your hair.
those people were you.
this first box you opened is filled with that memory when your friends said they want to stop being your friends.
you thought you already let that memory go. because they apologized and everything went back like it used to be, if not better. then why is it you still have that box? does it mean that all this time you're just pretending you've let it go? no. that's not the case. then what? what does it mean?
the anger and sadness made their way back into your heart. and the memory back to your mind. you hold your head and kneel. touching your forehead with that wet sand under your feet. you cry like a baby. but this time mom isn't there to soothe you. and neither is your brother/sister, boyfriend/girlfriend, nor your husband/wife.
still in tears, you grab the second box. you found that time when you asked for someone, anyone, but noone came.
third box. that time when you found out you couldn't be loved for who you are.
fourth box. that time when it's you who said you want to stop being someone's friend.
fifth box. that time when you reached for help but everybody's hands were too busy to touch you, let alone reach you.
sixth box. that time when you hugged your knees because noone was there to hug you.
seventh box. that time when you slashed your wrist because you thought the pain in your hand would ease away that pain in your heart.
eighth box. that time when you felt blood running from your vein to the floor and to the sink.
and ninth box. that time when your consciousness slipped away. when everything turned black and there's no light at the end of the tunnel.
you thought you're going to hell. because you thought you deserve hell. because you knew you're not going to heaven.
and then you realized it wasn't a dream you're in. it wasn't a sleep you went to.
it was death.
you're dead. before you get to chase your dream. before you get to see your child/grandchild smiling.
and worst of all, before you get to say "i love you" to that someone you always think about. whose name filled your ears, mind, and heart.
you can't cry. because your tears has run dry. you can't scream. because nobody will hear you out. so you just stood there, oblivious to everything. you look at the sky. there's no moon but it's full of stars.
you sit quietly, already calmed yourself after being overwhelmed with the truth you wish you never knew. then you lie on your back, trying to count the stars while waiting for the sun to rise. though deep down, you know there'll be no sun. you get calmer and calmer. is it the tranquil sound of the wave? or the warm tickling of the sand? whatever it is, you feel better now.
you then remember about that letter you left on your bed. you feel relieved because at least you get to say goodbye. you smiled. to your surprise, the first light hits your chin, then your lips, and your cheek. still smiling, you close your eyes.
And here you have
the number one
question that people
ask me:"How the hell
did you get so many
people to view your
art? You're not even
that good!"I can't
do anything other
admitting that I'm
not that good at
art. I'm not some
concept artist, at
least. I've seen
Meditation of Daily
Picolo is a graphic
design student in
Brazil who has
provided at least
most compelling r...
The ThemeWelcome to
the World of Water
contest. I've tried
to make it
ack: Close-ups (this
main subject in the
photograph has to be
water. It can be
drops, it c...
sted by LiberumEqua
ggested by NotenSMSK
Sserenita see more..
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More