My head is throbbing, my body is aching, my eyes hurt and my strength is all but gone. I feel beaten and alone. The only light I see in the tunnel of life is that of the coming train ready and wanting to crush me under its wheels. I actually do not know what turn me in this retched thing that now I sadly call myself. Was it little things over the weeks, months, years? Or one giant thing that turned my world around leaving me alone in a place I do not seem to understand? I cannot say for sure. Maybe it was some sort of a compilation between them, collaboration in the dark, like the horrifying ghosts and apparitions that consume my dreams with their dead and never-ending screams. I can still hear them; see their ghastly dances played before me accompanied with the discordant melody that is now the cry of my soul.
And there is that other music that is coming from the real world, a voice that appeases the demons, the sweet and soothing voice of a woman. She sings with her heart and I am sure that she believes in the things she sings about and that she is happy wherever she may be. Or maybe not. I do not know that really, I can only hope that it is the first option because it makes me feel much better. She speaks to me to let go, to simply let go of all the things that trouble me, to try to find another path that will not lead me to destruction. Just to go on and on and on like a rolling stone. Maybe those of you who know of which singer I am talking about would say that that is not what she sings about at all, but I really do not care. I feel it that way now and it makes me happy to think like that.
Now that mellifluous voice is superseded by the rough voice of another woman, dark, mysterious and sad reaching for my heart with her story. The story of her love and maybe the story of my own. She realized that he does not intend to come back and even though it is, better for them both she would still miss him. And like me, like all cowardly egocentric bastards on this planet, she asked that same question, as I did before I could stop the words from leaving my lips. Where are my friends now? Why did they leave me? Where is my lover? Can you believe it? To be so damn sure of yourself, to really believe that you deserve the love of someone or the help of the friends you so many times hurt, not always intentionally, but ultimately did. Moreover, as she sings maybe with a little pride in her voice, or maybe because the operator in the sound booth told her to do it like that, she speeks of a someone who told her that in the future she would not be sad anymore and wonders if it is true. I wonder that too for myself.
A rigid voice now takes the stand and gives me hope. It brings to my mind the view of a bar full of smoke and shadows and here and there, the little fire of a lighter. He taps at the microphone; different instruments start to play without regard for each other or if there is a melody. They begin to get louder and stronger mixing and finally in one stroke of the cigarette to the lips they start to play together in perfect harmony. Then that man starts to sing and even if you cannot understand the language, you can feel what he wants to say to you. Somehow, that voice sounds as if it is simply another instrument, not something coming from humans’ lips. Maybe I am putting too much in those songs and maybe the vocalists of those groups do not care, they only do it for the paycheck. Well maybe you are right but for my tortured soul, they sound as if playing only for me, to help me and to drive the ghosts away who for now are silenced. For it seems I really need that silence and peace. And what is that strange voice singing about?
Read it for yourself.
No matter how difficult the path is
Don't look away, keep on living
That is expiation.Don't look away, keep on living
