Hell

“We chop our souls, tearing bloody chunks out of them and give them to strangers. And when the right one comes along,
is there anything left to give ?

In my drift , vulgar world , there were cruel intentions, romances worth a certain sum of money, bought, dead and gone romances.
Too much vitriol , too many disappointments, we all lived in a huge orgy bluntly called “the modern world, today’s world”.
In order to survive here you need to have qualities like selfishness, slyness, cold blood, indifference and shallowness.
I had put my head on a silver platted and given it for so many times decapitated and fragile…
it was watched, admired and then tossed back in the mass grave… along with other thousands of heads…
Being hurt, I hurt back wearing masks after masks like an executioner… cutting heads and tossing them in that filthy grave of stupid arrogance.
At night, being alone in front of comically round moon, my thoughts plagued me, judging me in front of the harshest jury, my conscience… bringing in front of my eyes the faces to the people I had hurt, used or manipulated when I was younger. I’ve made mistakes but never lied.
This happened at night… During the day I became Elle gorgeous and optimistic like a butterfly.

Sometimes I wanted to seclude myself on a peak of the highest mountain, where the faces of cold and dead angels – the snowflakes – would play my favorite song… and then jump into the abyss… to die like a heroine, after having lived like a gray lizard…
a meaningless, decadent and fearful life. That was Hell.

This was me, half light, half darkness.
A tonic and selfish, chaotic and generous presence, an idealist, lover of freedom, I was perfect at giving advice but never followed them. I liked the state of bliss, romance, and the insane passion…Also I dreamed of demonically sensual apparitions with long, black nails that abducted and took me on liquid capes in temples dedicated to me… where under the candlelight…
naked pages oil painted me on the glass walls.

I never felt I was entirely a woman, more of a hybrid between a cancer and an ideal… There’s not a name for this. Nor a gender.”

 

From the novel ” Love between two worlds”. Translation by Oana Amuza

© All rights reserved Sofia Goublias-2014