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Do you know how one was made to lose their way? It was ever so simple. Perhaps my wordings were too sweet, too melodious, I was told that in multitudes that it’s my given trait to be slightly curved, a legato even. And such my words come out in muddied waters upon what is supposed to be spring water. Just imagine having your sense of self, taken away. Slowly and forcefully. Just barely visible at first, just some names, some faces. Some items reminded you of home, like a collar with your name on it.. but without that name. Stripped away from your hiding place even the darkness would not hide your face.
And yes, you have a face…
Remember. Focus... Focus…
The main tone was confusion, it led to a series of deceptions. To see who is not meant to be, what it seems was never what it seemed. But then to be told so, the loss of persons to trust and then the lack of someone or something to anchor to. And soon you started to ask yourself in the mirror; who am I? Can somebody please tell me?
And I? Who am I to respond to such a call? If you do not know who you are, what makes me? What you saw was an old worn face that you did not recognize. You ought to think of yourself as younger, you were certain those clothing would have never fit you. You started looking up as if you were a child. Were you once a child?
You have forgotten. I have too. I would not have said we are the same. We are truly different. I am older than you and yet also younger than you. Perhaps I meant to say I matured faster for the sake of us. I will help you remember, I will try not to be manipulated by your friends. And unlike them, I do not need your permission to do so.
Does it make any sense?
In this deep labyrinth with only brass and woodwinds, you should know the cue to the bells and the strings. Slowly move away, away. Do not go deeper into the sounds, make no noise. The candle made it all suffocating at times…
Did you see it? The ivory-white marble statue of an angel? Perhaps we have made it quite far ahead this time. We might find the right path this time around. No, pardon me, not the right path… there’s no such thing… Perhaps a path. We should call it that, yes. It was a path instead of having no path. Just like how we have forgotten about home but never about our friends.
Friends? ...Friends? Friends.
We used to have friends. We call them friends. Or was it the fact that we tried to see them as friends? Or they were once friends? I do not know. It was a blur once you realized everything matters and does not matter at the same time. Your heart remembers them as friends, but they have taken your heart away. And so does mine…
And since when did you start running? Towards the light, from the shadow, against the curtain as it calls your name and music stars playing. I ah, I understand it now.
I despised the accordion, but now I deeply loathe the violin even more. So this is how it is with you? As hands moved together in unison of this impending dance of death, reach out to the only light we knew and beloathed. And thus the dancers wandered in mesmerizing tune and scrambled into a maddening position of one and two and…
Where do you think you are going?
There is no escape from this now I realized. In this heat of anticipation would we not merely return to what once was? In death, in ruin, let the curtains rise, rise, RISE!
All the ones that come in thirds, all the melodious tunes that raced in replacement of a heartbeat. All of life had come to this, a magnum opus of God created for men.
A twist and turns upon a hall of mirrors, of falling and wondering and drowning once more and once more, it slipped away just right under your grasp. Tell me, what are we looking for? Why was it so hard to pinpoint an exit after that last round of light upon the darkness?
And yet we lived another day to tell the tale. Gathered our friend’s remains and wondered..
Now we wonder…
Why there’s two instead of three?
Was there a gap in your logic when you saw my eyes? Or was this some sort of plan? From the very beginning it had always been, hasn’t it? A spiraling world where one could not escape the grasp of the higher being. Only made to be forgotten, only made to pass as a memory, a mark in time written in blood for the sake of a sick higher purpose.
What was the point of this ritual? This maddening day-to-day life that is similar to normalcy? Don’t we all wake up to the same sun and stars? Does it not make the same on the inside? That we are all beings with masks and a face we no longer recognize? Strange is it? To know you had never seen your true self? That your own REFLECTION could have been lying about you all this time?
And now we fall, and fall...
and we fell.
Returned to wordings that were too sweet, too melodious, too much to be slightly curved, a legato inside these words like muddied waters. Close your eyes, do not imagine. This time, in a pace within the music, mayhaps… soon it matters not what they have taken away. These experiences will not last anyway. Not with the painful shards lodged deep in your neck and the ever-growing self-consciousness fading away. Whispering goodbyes..
Stripped away from your hiding place even the darkness would not hide your face.