I have a sadness in my heart that I can’t seem to escape.
Fake Your Death- My Chemical Romance
"I choose defeat, I walk away
And leave this place for sane today
Some like to sleep, we like to play
Just look at all that pain”
"Death is tragic, but life is miserable." -The Sorrow
The snow just keeps coming, it lays heavy on the ground and slowly freezes into ice as the hours go by. I sit beside the window and stare out. More snow falls and settles atop the old. Day by day the thickness outside the front door grows. I just sit and stare.
Sometimes I sleep. I didn’t used to sleep so well, I told my therapist and now I take little pink pills. My nightmares still come each night but I can no longer escape them with a jolt and wake myself up.
I just sleep.
Dawn breaks and I’m fast asleep, the cold winter sun reaches its highest point in the sky and still I slumber. Eventually I wake. I see maybe two hours of daylight before the sun sets and the moon rises. I sit beside the window and the snow falls on, long into the night.
I think of my old friend as I watch white fall on white. He died, killed himself. I don’t feel sorry for him any more. Instead, I feel angry.
I still miss him just the same. Only now when I see his ghost, I don’t talk to him. He hurt me.
I don’t want to take these pills anymore, I don’t want to sleep away the days, I don’t want to feel empty and unfulfilled.
I miss people. I miss what the world was to me when I was a kid. It was an adventure, an experience, a place full of possibilities.
Now, it’s just four walls, falling snow, and wasted days.
Here comes the flood- Peter Gabriel and Robert Fripp
From the album Exposure
"When the flood calls
You have no home, you have no walls
In the thunder crash
You’re a thousand minds, within a flash
Don’t be afraid to cry at what you see
The actors gone, there’s only you and me
And if we break before the dawn,
They’ll use up what we used to be.”
9th Dec 2013
The Prayer- Andrea Bocelli
When shadows fill our day
Lead us to a place
Guide us with your grace
For Hilda Grace.
After an argument, I took a walk. It was snowing faintly and had been for a short time. I took a deep breath to fill my lungs with the fresh, frosty air and clear my head. As I exhaled, I watched a thick plume of misty condensation drift from me into the night and disperse into nothingness. From this nothingness I saw the darkness of the cemetery across the street.
I paced slowly past the chapel building and followed a winding path through the trees. I had my hood up and my head down until the light from the streets was gone from view and I could finally begin to feel myself relaxing into solitude.
There were a few dozen flickering candles stretching out down the rows of gravestones, illuminating the permanent address of the fondly remembered and recently deceased. Shadows danced upon the white carpet and flurries of glistening confetti showered over them.
I started to follow the footprints of ghosts who had roamed these paths before me.
An elderly widow in a wheelchair and her son led me to the final resting place of their beloved husband and father; the son knelt down and cleaned away the crumpled leaves of autumn before placing a bouquet fresh flowers and lighting another candle amongst the graves. I let them wander back together the way they had arrived. A little while later I joined a middle aged man carrying a wreath and walking the family dog. They walked side by side for a long while; occasionally the little dog would cut across in front of him and cause him to stop abruptly. When they reached the clean tomb stone, I cried silently as he laid the wreath on the grave of his daughter, she would be twenty two next month. He wiped away the snow on a photograph of her and reached into his pocket taking out a heart shaped stone; on it was written: “Tenker på deg.” Thinking of you. He placed the stone at the base of the photograph, atop the fresh snow and then walked home.
Tomorrow I fly back to England and in four days I will be attending the funeral of my Grandmother, Hilda Grace.
The day before I left for Norway I visited her and she told me about her childhood, about growing up during the war and about how she met my Grandfather. I asked her if she would come and visit me, she had a collection of fridge magnets that she had gathered on her travels in recent years. I kissed her goodbye and we said that we would look through some more photographs together at Christmas.
I will miss her.
You will see me- dan le sac Vs Scroobius Pip
This country is cold and lonely.
I wish there was a place in this world that I could feel happy to call home.
I’m afraid that this was a mistake and I will be unable to feel happiness ever again.