when you are in solitary confinement. I mean, who it is to love?
You can remember your family, kids, wife. Will it be friends or enemies. They are left in the past,
slowly rotting in my memory. So it’s not fair to love your memories. It is the same as being tempted by yourself.
The Love should be something that is given to other, externally. To whom should I give it? I swear,
I haven’t seen the sunlight, only concrete walls. I can’t stand them.
Today the fly came through my iron bars, to my cell. Are you as lonely as me?
Her or his movements trough air captivates my sight, making me climb through the pit that I fell in
mentally and throwing me right back in the new abyss. But that abyss is new, it’s filled with temptation and sensitivity.
I’m dancing like a maniac, felling the newfound emotions. My body swings with the rhythm of fly.
No more I repel those dirty walls, no more I am with disgust with this place. Loathe. There is no
more of it too.
And then she left.
Sorrow and hatred, ravening envy to the whole human race. In a fit of pique I slam my palm right
into the bars that fly escaped from me trough. I detest my newfound feeling, it made me feel myself
admired by someone. Oh, I was so disillusioned!
I look at my sweaty palm. Strange feeling, resentment is pumping my blood trough my veins,
hardening my face muscles and making my whole body shake.
It didn’t fly away.
It did just die by my own, disaffected hand.
I remember now why I am in this solitude.
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