Flying Pans & Flowing Knives!
Having spent days, even weeks, in the wonder of perfection, thinking can this be true, and spending nights in that haze between consciousness and unconsciousness staring forwards with eyes wide open hoping all of this to be true, I can feel myself falling ill.
Sometimes the figure of a woman would appear in front of me, sometimes a sense of fear would engulf it all, but I never quite know whether I’m dreaming a dream, or dreaming of reality.
This world of ours is gifted to give us such passion, such perfection, but can we allow ourselves to believe that such a blissful state exists? In this world where restrictions have become the norm, can we allow ourselves to be free?
That powerful grip that lays upon the throat of humanity is suffocating out the life, and everyone seems to be longing for that soft release that would allow even the slightest breath of air to roam free and give the body that newfound lust for life.
We are on the edge between heaven and hell, paradise and prison, because that powerful grip is keeping us breathless.
How long can we wait for it, that breath that in the end gives life?
I think soon we must be allowed to roam free once more, so that we may love each other into that blissful state of ecstasy once again.
We are on a bus going towards paradise, and I am on the verge of insanity because for some strange reason they won’t let me sleep.
I’ve been awake since eight this morning carrying around my whole world and falling ill. Our bus left twelve hours later and I was glad to have time to sleep.
I slept in the back only to be told I was not allowed to sleep. I asked if I am allowed to sleep on my chair, and I was denied that luxury as well. I slept under the chairs on the floor, only to climb up once again into that annoying state of awakeness.
Every time i doze off, the lights turn on, I get poked, or the bus stops, and I am continuously brought back from that sweet release of unconsciousness. The back seat is reserved for a bag, apparently, and it was my second try already.
Having my feet up is not allowed and a look of astonishment was given to me as if I had been horrible wrong somehow.
Juho is watching the Turkish super cup final along with the rest of the bus. Just as the final penalties are being taken, the driver turns off the power releasing a loud cry pleading to turn it back on. The referee has made the decision and it is final. This bus ride just gets weirder and weirder. Nobody knows how the game ended.
When the driver decides it is time to continue all I can do is feel myself falling deeper, staring at a screen with people projecting violence at each other in one way or another, all dubbed into Turkish. I am in a haze of fever.
It’s 2 am, and we have 8 hours to go until Paradise. Hopefully there I get my chance to breath.