:: recalcitrating fears ::
every two hours, or so, i take a deep breath and divert my mind from those little voices in my head; yes, those that tell me that there's no greater lie than the one that states that it is all, in the end, going to end up well. i slowly close my eyes and build up conversations in german that could persuade me into believing that there is nothing to fear, that here, as everywhere -and for that matter, anywhere- things seem to flow, as they should, without caring much for my fears._ but, there are times, when the simple act of breathing-closing eyes-imaginig friends i do not have, is not enough._ to my mind come a thousand images of times already past, in which i had found myself absolutely terrified by the smallest of things; a million tears wasted on unimportant matters, the belief that a very loud scream could bring some kind of security to 'my here'._i don't scream anymore, or bash my head into the walls of my room -that would imply that i would have to wash off the stains of blood before i left, something i am by no means willing to do-, but the same kind of stomach-turning self inflicted wounds are today present, as they were thousand times before.
i'm thinking about staying here; well, more accurately, i think from time to time about the possibility of not going back as soon as i should._ the thought doesn't seem to stick for long, not long enough to actually become an intention, something i would do something about._ last night i had a dream in which i was completely devastated for having returned home without having done anything of worth._ i woke up immersed in a most disturbing state of emotions, not knowing if the words i uttered in my dreams -"i don't want to live here"- reffered to this here, or the past and future here._anyway, it hasn't turned out to be a good day; maybe i'm letting myself get overinvolved with what i think._ the lack of friends with whom i could spend my time has made me too much self-aware to tell the difference between what i want and what i once thought i wanted._ perhaps i'll even go mad; who am i to know that?.
i spoke to my mother recently, and what she had to say left me worried, frustrated and feeling a bit as a traitor._ after all, i'm here, in part, running away from all -well, all except him- i left behind._things are messed up back home._and i'm not doing anything about it; i'm not doing anything about anything._ i think i've lost a couple of months of my life.
coming in through my ears::Penumbra //Spinetta