Give me today, for once, the worst throw of your dice, destiny. Today I transmute everything into gold.
— Friedrich Nietzsche
Everything you are, you wrote, falls from the sky like the stars. I’d seen that flow of blood running out your veins, as your eyes gazed emptily toward the oblivion of your dreams—had you seen the might of the Milky Way standing before you, or the grandiosity of the nothingness that you’ve always believed in?
Johnnie it was only 0.000001 second left before the twilight, but you were still drenching in the blue—the blueness of the blue soul inside your empty heart. I called your name but you didn’t hear me, that was until you broke into a transparent shade near the decayed, ivy-decorated walls of your dreams as it shed its blood—it was your heart, Johnnie. I chased you around the empty forest where the eyes found you, but you were nowhere to be seen.
Johnnie, but, you were crying. I could see the tears on your cheek but you hated me for wiping it off your face.
You were whispering something inaudible for me, but you were speaking about truth and lies, fictions and realities—you were confused. You didn't even see the glass staircase in front of us.
As you stepped in it all the city crawled back to reality—the tower, the human forest, the sunken ship, the rainbow river, and the metropolis, blocking our path. I was afraid but your hands on mine made me feel secure, it was as if I could live and die twice—I felt to strong that I started to doubt whether my breath could really cease.
The path was long but we were close—I could see your eyes on me now.
Near the outer gate I’d seen a dancer in her colorful robe. She spun and spun and spun until her robes widened as the colors of an afternoon sky—red, orange, yellow, with hints of purple and soft greens and covered the frightening decayed city behind us. We could no longer see dusts and smell burning air, Johnnie, and I could feel you inside me. Touching deep to the depth of my soul, thrusting into every layer of my brain, every fragment in my cells—
Johnnie it was already 0.0000001 second until twilight, and we were about to break free.
2:03:44 PM
WE'LL BREAK FREE.
photography by devina
captions taken from my short story cradle; about a girl struggling to get out of her agonizing dream about the man she calls her love(if you're curious, i'll upload the file later in .pdf format)
anyway just finished beauty and sadness, up next is albert camus' the stranger. i read in jim morrison's biography that the book's one of his favorites. he really is my hero, too bad he died at such early age...
