I see things. Things that you don’t see. You can’t. Actually, I think nobody can. I can feel the nature of a place just in a moment after being there. There starts the process of osmosis. All the emotions, all the feelings, all the thought particles vibrating in the infinite dimensions penetrate through me from their higher concentration to my neutral self ‘til an emotional equilibrium exists between me and the surroundings. It helps me act according to the situation, whatever it may be.
I prefer to believe that I have this power that lets me taste the real squash of the uncalculated automatic words that people throw out of their mouths. It’s like my head’s a juicer machine and their words are the fruits, mostly unwanted and abrupt, covered with thorns and half-eaten worms. They enter through my ears, peeled off layer by layer, squeezed, cuddled, embraced and crunched, their extract flows throughout the brain, sharing not even a single globule with the rest of the body. Especially, the face, which is known to be the mirror of out thoughts. I’ve cut down all the chords between my face and the part of my brain which causes reaction… I respond, not react. And most of the time the response is a the combination of illumination of eyes, fluffing out of cheeks, and elevation of the ends of the lips, all put in on word – smile.
This smile is sometimes natural, sometimes devilish, sometimes out of love and sometimes just to hide my anger.
The thing I have noticed recently is that when I see anybody I smile. Those who are close to me say that whenever I look at them and smile it makes them feel naked.‘Mentally or physically? They creep me out.’ Some say that I see them like it’s the first time. I don’t know what does that mean and how I do it. I’m not even sure if I am the one who does it or its my blue companion who’s behind it. Whatever it is, has become a part of me.
“Smile…”, my grandma tells me “…in front of everyone you meet. Your loved ones will love you more and your enemies will be pissed off.” One thing is crystal clear ‘Old people’s wise words never grow old.‘ She’s very much correct and I’m thankful to her for teaching me the art of fucking up the brains of the people who hate you.
There’s another thing which amuses me.. People around me dislike me, many of them seem to hate me, but their families have confessed to me that they wish they had a son like me. ‘Interesting,eh?’ I don’t know which part of me makes them feel like that. And I don’t know what does that make me…
Whatever it makes me but certainly not a monster… Far as I know, nobody wants a monster in their home. ‘It’s already there in their heads.’ Now, I’m pretty sure, even the children who once loved the cookie monster wouldn’t want to share a cookie with him. ‘We don’t simply grow, we grow selfish, scared and insecure.’
We need to hide some places somewhere inside us because they’re darker than the darkness. They are like wormholes – consume every single ray of light, hope and happiness.
I don’t need to hide it. I’ve mastered in extracting light out of this darkness.