Life, responsibilities, misdeeds and freedom

What an old lady from hell! She is picking up pieces of earth like she’s picking up flowers and she is scooping out crumbled street like she would scoop vanilla ice cream! She is running after me … Picking, throwing, scooping and throwing …

AAAh! The gravity is trying to squish my spine! I must fight back … I will look up to the sky to hold my head high with all the power I have left …

Wait, what is that heavy weight burdening my shoulders? That weight took a form of a green old skinny man who is clutching on my back and piercing my skin with his long dirty nails. If I give in she will win and if I kept my pride I will break.

Lemons are rolling towards me … What would I do with lemons? “Make lemonade.” she said as she laughed in mockery. Home is where I want to be; where I can cry alone. “Turn me into a bird!” At last! I am free to fly back to my golden cage.

Mysterious man

“Am I next?” I thought as I walked by a cemetry in Turkey. They were people like me, I am no god. Will I die? That is out of question. What about my pitiful misdeeds … will I carry their heavy weight on my chest? Will they fit in my grave? In the darkness lays green. Who is that man standing before me? Why do I feel pulled and submissive?

Fear of death is suddenly clear and planted. Stranger, Are you reading my thoughts?! Stop shuffling them on your poker table. I am only grey fading to white. As the healing illness runs through my veins I can hear his only loud thought – “You are next.”