Nigthmare, panic, horror, doomsday, chaos, apocalypse, end of the world. All in one.
The life of a university entrant is hard, harder than you can imagine. Queues, queues, queues and queues. And yes, queues. And mackle-paper. And queues. In a week or so my destiny will be uncovered and… well, let’s talk when it happens. I still have to pass through tomorrow’s branch office of Sodom and Gomorrah, I mean, an interview at MSU Journalism dept., and a few more exams. But we’ll see then. This is not the scariest thing, in the end. Worse things are the other ones that happen.
“And once again the wind is on the hill”, people said.
It is a chaos, and I don’t know, what’s stronger: its piercing bitterness or its pleasant sweetness. Here I am, in a sea of lemons instead of oranges, spending nights talking to Pierrot – sometimes I even think I am his sister – and the moon. We are all stuck here. And where is the path outside, I don’t know. These bodies, words and breathes won’t let me escape, they won’t. Chains? No. Not puppet strings either. My own thoughts cut sharper.
…and after collecting all the pieces of broken glass, they lit a candle in front of a sacred image and started to pray, softly breathing out: “Make the wind go back to the hill, please”.
Did you want it? Here you got. And be careful with your wishes next time, silly girl. Your midsummer night’s dream is going way too deep, and will sink even deeper. Cure? …There isn’t a need in one. Anyway, who told you that oranges are better than lemons?
~ by Anna on July 9, 2010.