It's getting too crowded in here. I can't see anything anymore, as the lights are turned off and my eyes are sealed shut.
What am I moving towards?
It seems to be getting colder day after day.
The city sparkles, millions of lights, each its very own colour, and a strong wind starts blowing as I get out of the subway station.
My hands ache, little needles puncturing my skin. I struggle to light a cigarette either way, and I try my best to ignore the cold, even if I am kind of freezing.
As I start walking, I notice how empty and desolated the streets look. Well, nobody has a need to be around at 7 AM on a Saturday morning...
I fill my lungs with cigarette smoke as I wait for the traffic lights to turn green. It's still dark outside and the sparkling holiday lights are irritating my eyes. Finally, I can cross the street. A dog waits on the other side of the boulevard, his tail wagging. I think he's hungry but I can't help him out. All I've got with me are my cigarettes and some money.
I have to hurry up to get to work. My fingers are getting numb and the cigarette is halfway finished. I want to drink my hot coffee. My eyes are stinging and a small tear is running down my left cheeck. I think to myself that my left eye was always a bit more sensitive than the other.
And 9 hours later, I'll be repeating the same routine, but the other way around.
At least if it would snow, the falling snowflakes would hide me, and I could rest there, bathed in their warmth, until I would forget I ever existed...
The city sparkles, millions of lights, each its very own colour, and a strong wind starts blowing as I get out of the subway station.
My hands ache, little needles puncturing my skin. I struggle to light a cigarette either way, and I try my best to ignore the cold, even if I am kind of freezing.
As I start walking, I notice how empty and desolated the streets look. Well, nobody has a need to be around at 7 AM on a Saturday morning...
I fill my lungs with cigarette smoke as I wait for the traffic lights to turn green. It's still dark outside and the sparkling holiday lights are irritating my eyes. Finally, I can cross the street. A dog waits on the other side of the boulevard, his tail wagging. I think he's hungry but I can't help him out. All I've got with me are my cigarettes and some money.
I have to hurry up to get to work. My fingers are getting numb and the cigarette is halfway finished. I want to drink my hot coffee. My eyes are stinging and a small tear is running down my left cheeck. I think to myself that my left eye was always a bit more sensitive than the other.
And 9 hours later, I'll be repeating the same routine, but the other way around.
At least if it would snow, the falling snowflakes would hide me, and I could rest there, bathed in their warmth, until I would forget I ever existed...
There's a saying that goes "Life beats fiction"...
But it depends on each and every one of us which side they'd rather take.
Are you alive, or are you merely fiction ?...
But it depends on each and every one of us which side they'd rather take.
Are you alive, or are you merely fiction ?...