Saturday, May 16, 2009

Climbing to the Moon


Your imagination can be your best friend or your worst enemy. You can picture a stair that ascends from your mind to the sky. Or to hell. I like the journeys that lead me to the moon, but it is not always easy to step up to it. Sometimes I have my mind burning with questions and doubts that send me to the dark lands, via express train. It’s hard to find the moon there, it’s hard to find myself, but I can always reach for a dear memory, a memory from days that had no trouble in the air and where the worst nightmare was loose one of my dolls. This memory, sweet like the air in my grandma kitchen, brings me the steps and soon the moon shines in my mind. I am a werewolf without fangs and fur; all my senses became multiplied in those steps; all my feelings better ones. I drink from the pale beam and feel my blood turning to liquid silver. I am not human anymore. I am just another star revolving around myself for all the eternity. And finally I am free. I can return now.
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