This really happened:
Walking from the institute back to my shacks with the fog clouding , hiding from nobody in the gaps of my hair the only sound I could hear was my jeans rick-racking each other as I strode over to my room…smoking the mist I looked at the trees and the branches and the huge ground that extend to several meters at the side of me …and then I said to myself “there can be no ghosts and I believe in none…no spirits we are just biological organisms and jus like the ant crushed we end…nothing more than that it’s over and out jus like pressing the end call button in my mobile jus like the second that finished before the present one…hmm it can’t be” there were no refusals and still I went “no! it cannot be there can be NO GHOSTS there cannot be simply not, it cannot be because we have a mind, not because we can picturise them, not because we attempt to find them…and not because my forefathers told me!” Ok, I moved on and climbed those couple of stairs and then went over to my room…and then as I shifted to warmer clothes I smiled “why the hell did I have to think about ghosts all of a sudden of all things in the world! Poof”…maybe even that’s a part of growing up…yeah I always attribute too may things saying that “it’s a part of growing up”…
In my bed I slid into the cold blanket to start the clean circle of warmth…i guess people know how it works…its like the blanket takes in heat from your body and then the wool intensifies it I guess…too lame a explanation…leave it there and I move on…
I woke up in the middle of my sleep and then saw that the door was open and I could still hear the gothic music playing on as I had kept it on when I was about to sleep…and the fog diluted as mist in front of the door, creeping in all the while. I hummed a lazy tone and then searched for the slippers, opened the door and there was no one at the corridor but the fog. Hmm the fog got denser and my hairs behind the neck stared at the ceiling…
A friend of mine came up to me from the corridor door and said “50 bucks”….I looked at him with a question in my face…and then he grew from being anxious to angry and started shouting in a voice that could only impinge my eardrums…”50 bucks!, 50 bucks!”… And he helped me in a fiend’s way to remove my pants all the while searching my pockets.
I am forgetting….
And then I remember getting up for the second time opening the door and then running on the road taken few hours before all the while crying, apologizing “oh I believe in you, u might be there, exist there and then swoop down…jus go back to your warm nests…go back…oh please do…” and then I entered the long distance call booth and called home and heard warm voices and hurried back into my blanket…
Walking from the institute back to my shacks with the fog clouding , hiding from nobody in the gaps of my hair the only sound I could hear was my jeans rick-racking each other as I strode over to my room…smoking the mist I looked at the trees and the branches and the huge ground that extend to several meters at the side of me …and then I said to myself “there can be no ghosts and I believe in none…no spirits we are just biological organisms and jus like the ant crushed we end…nothing more than that it’s over and out jus like pressing the end call button in my mobile jus like the second that finished before the present one…hmm it can’t be” there were no refusals and still I went “no! it cannot be there can be NO GHOSTS there cannot be simply not, it cannot be because we have a mind, not because we can picturise them, not because we attempt to find them…and not because my forefathers told me!” Ok, I moved on and climbed those couple of stairs and then went over to my room…and then as I shifted to warmer clothes I smiled “why the hell did I have to think about ghosts all of a sudden of all things in the world! Poof”…maybe even that’s a part of growing up…yeah I always attribute too may things saying that “it’s a part of growing up”…
In my bed I slid into the cold blanket to start the clean circle of warmth…i guess people know how it works…its like the blanket takes in heat from your body and then the wool intensifies it I guess…too lame a explanation…leave it there and I move on…
I woke up in the middle of my sleep and then saw that the door was open and I could still hear the gothic music playing on as I had kept it on when I was about to sleep…and the fog diluted as mist in front of the door, creeping in all the while. I hummed a lazy tone and then searched for the slippers, opened the door and there was no one at the corridor but the fog. Hmm the fog got denser and my hairs behind the neck stared at the ceiling…
A friend of mine came up to me from the corridor door and said “50 bucks”….I looked at him with a question in my face…and then he grew from being anxious to angry and started shouting in a voice that could only impinge my eardrums…”50 bucks!, 50 bucks!”… And he helped me in a fiend’s way to remove my pants all the while searching my pockets.
I am forgetting….
And then I remember getting up for the second time opening the door and then running on the road taken few hours before all the while crying, apologizing “oh I believe in you, u might be there, exist there and then swoop down…jus go back to your warm nests…go back…oh please do…” and then I entered the long distance call booth and called home and heard warm voices and hurried back into my blanket…
