Each step was a new word, each street, a new sentence, each station, a new paragraph. As I walked I wrote, I acted out this internal monologue that kept running nonstop in my mind. I was trying to understand, to see what there was to figure out, to discover them, the old men,the emo kids, the woman, the people that stared, the ones that listened, the ones that didn't care, the ones that never laughed, that never talked, that never smiled... They were diferent, it was like I was too human, too defectuous, too breakable, and my only defense was the expression on my face, but it wasn't enough, I felt weak.
As I kept on walking I saw at their faces, I looked into their eyes.. expressionless, hopeless, trying to escape from sight, not looking at anything they didn't have to, focusing in where they had to be ..forgeting where they have been. I was afraid of ending my monologue, of wasting out my mind, everything I cared for beeing vanished... of disappearing, of becoming empty, hollow, german.
The subway is fun. At least for me, since the rest don't seem to have any reason to enjoy it... or life at all. People's mad faces amuse me, their silence, and their stare when I talk, happily, or laugh out loud as if they were condemned not to. The most amazing things have happened to me in the subway. (Maybe amazing is not the word anyone would use.. but it really was). As I stared into my cold hands and heard the german voice announcing the station, I looked up and saw a smile... with no aparent reason attached to it. It was an old man, alone, he sat infront of me.. just there, smiling, then he moved a little and I noticed it, the had lost both of his hands, but there he was, the only handless man in the subway.. carring the only smile.
Music came along one day, an Italian, singing so joyfully while not a single person rised their head to look at him.. at least, not a single mouth tried to become a smile, it was like I was the only one how could hear him.. as if they were all deaf. The melody came out from the strings of his guitar,into my stomach, my heart. It felt good, knowing I wasn't the only human around. Then I learned how to distinguish germans from foreigners, germans always sat on the hall side, so no one would sit next to them, since its uncomfortable to sit by the window with them in the middle. The foreigners sat on the window side, so anyone could come in and sit beside them..if they'd wish... but germans don't really "wish" they still keep on walking, useless. One day I saw someone who made them really move, stare, look up, alive, aware of their surroundings. A drunk. A man who kept on talking and talking... he never really did shut up.. and people just moved away from him, ignored him and turned their emptyness into hate. I guess they can only be hollow and upset. I don't want to be hollow and upset. I just want to be me... in a sea of madness, of emptyness, of sorrow, or confusion.. but sometimes afraid that "me" is not strong enough.
1 comment:
Never reproach or doubt yourself for being too human, too defectuous, too different, too breakable… because that in the end… is what will give you strength. That sensitivity, that “weakness” will lead you to you, won’t let you forget… where you have been, where you come from, where you have stepped… what you are, what you’ve become. That is definitely, the greatest beauty, and you carry it… don’t let anyone or anything take it from you. Keep writing, the pen will be your light… as long as you are able to see, to identify those little things that just doesn’t fit… you’ll be safe. And in those days were the cold is more than the wind and the snow… when you can really say… shit I’m cold! When every voice, every person, every building, every street… is just a bunch of unknown ice, when you’re just lost… you start feeling it, really feeling the cold, getting to your blood, your bones, your thoughts… and finally starts freezing your heart… go to her, search for the music, your music, your warmth… and breath one more time, feel alive!
Never stop smiling… we got used to that smile in here, sometimes we stopped noticing it… now we miss it! Make them miss it even more in a few months! Just like the handless man, make sure to be able to make a difference and be notice for more than what you don’t have… but for what you can give. Don’t be afraid of leaving a tide of laughter in that huge sea of madness. They notice, deep down they do…
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