by signeyahh

Image

(Photo: A sunset walk in Christ Church meadow, Oxford, when my photography skills were still as poor as they’ll [hopefully] ever be in my life, United Kingdom)

“Lili

Take another walk out of your fake world.

Please put all the drugs out of your hands.

You’ll see that you can breathe without no backup;

So much stuff you got to understand.

For every step in any walk,

Any town of any thought,

I’ll be your guide –

For every street of any scene

Any place you’ve never been

I’ll be your guide.

Lili,

You know there’s still a place for people like us:

The same blood runs in every hand.

You’ll see it’s not the wings that make the angels;

Just have to move the bats out of your head.

For every step in any walk,

Any town of any thought,

I’ll be your guide –

For every street of any scene

Any place you’ve never been

I’ll be your guide.

Lili,

Easy as a kiss, we’ll find an answer.

Put all your fears back in the shade.

Don’t become a ghost without no colour,

Cause you’re the best paint life ever made

For every step in any walk,

Any town of any thought,

I’ll be your guide –

For every street of any scene,

Any place you’ve never been,

I’ll be your guide.”

Lili (U-Turn), Aaron

Ever wondered how nice it could be, being ‘Lili’? To have a loving person sing these sweetest words to you? To think this declaration of unconditional support and eternal love were for you? How would that feel?

Have you ever felt that rejected? Hopeless, homeless, dreamless to the point that you are fearless? Do you have to be that lonely for the world to take pity on you? What if you don’t want it? But who would believe you? Can you convince yourself that sympathy, at least attention, is not exactly what you secretly and deeply wish for?

Who, in his right mind, would refuse that? In your most confused, blurred, dark and obscure moments, would you turn your back on that most desired hand, that softest look that promises everything and denies nothing? ‘Easy as a kiss, we’ll find an answer’.

But you don’t long for mere attention. Not just any kiss. Only this one person’s touch is the most comforting in the entire world. Better than any kind and anyone’s words. Better than an avalanche of nice attentions. Better than thousands of pages of philosophical ideas. Better than an army of friends at your feet. Better that morphine, cocaine, marijuana and LSD. The wonderful certainty that however rejected, however lonely, however hurt you are, you will always have something. Something that matters to you that you can cling to with your last breath. Because this is a gift from the only person that occupies the thrown you have carefully guarded in the innermost and deepest compartment of your heart.

I didn’t have that luxury. No tender look from him that would feel like a mother’s caress on your frozen cheek. One that would heal my aching heart and shaking body. No refuge. Nowhere. Kicked out of what I had called ‘home’ for a dozen years, I had no idea where to go. Sincerely, I don’t think the idea stroke me as much as it does now that I can consider it with as much lucidity as I can muster. No, I didn’t think that much. I tried to subdue my passions. I went back to my room with the most ardent wish to just disappear. To erase any trace of my insignificant existence. Confused, confused to my bones, confused to the last fibre in my muscles and the remotest cell I could ever imagine sheltering, I attempted to calm down. My heart was like a cauldron boiling within me, threatening to burn my entire body and soul. Anger, uncontrollable hatred for this one person, who had once promised  to dissipate every cloud that dared to penetrate my head; mixed in a disgusting mishmash with the deepest level of despair I had ever experienced, the kind that feels as if thunder had stricken you and made you as empty as void, yet so disgustingly abandoned it made you wanna puke your insides out, just to proceed to an intensive internal cleansing. Around me the world started spinning but I could not grant it any more of my attention. I sat for what seemed like an eternity, desperately trying to keep inside the insides of my soul. Pretending I was Lili, I wanted to fool myself. Yes, there is someone out there that would whole-heartedly and spontaneously sing these words to you. No, you would not need to express how pathetic you really feel. He would know. Or wouldn’t need to. A soul sister doesn’t need words, nor does it need any kind of futile and incomplete communication. He’d know what to do better than how to solve the easiest possible equation. Of course. Keep dreaming. Again, cynicism. The hurtful kind. The harmful kind. The one that pierces your soul and destroys any vestige of hope that you ever had. I hated myself. I couldn’t sympathise with my own self. I wished to smash this pitiful self, crush it, stifle it, step on it, ceaselessly mock it and burn it down. Erase its very existence. I hated it for being so harsh yet not amount of harshness could fulfil my own sadistic thirst. Tired of myself and powerless, I stormed out.

I ran, ran and ran. As fast as could, as loud as I could, as far as I could. I felt the raindrops hitting my shirt, reaching my skin, cooling my burning heart. I ran longer than I ever ran. With no sense of direction whatsoever, losing sight of the road and of my own existence. I forgot that I even existed. All my mad conscience could focus on was the mad race. The race against my past. The race against time. The race against reality. The race that would undo it all. The race that would bring me to heaven. I ran so fast I was in flight. I had left my most ailing lucidity behind and I was running as fast as I could to break free. My existence did not matter. Nothing mattered but the race. Raindrops made encouraging sounds of clapping hands. I belonged to this dreamlike environment I had created in this cold and soaked night. I had crafted a parallel dimension for myself. An illusionary world in which I was a hero, a winner. I won the race. The race against humanity. The profoundest bond I could have with the universe, I was experiencing it. I ran so much I could no longer feel my feet or knees or beating heart. I was a member, a component of this microcosm that was made entirely for me, that had leapt out of my own consciousness. My asylum.

Advertisements