glass of wine on my window sill

I filled another glass with wine. I gulped it down. Now I feel it sliding through my throat, reaching my stomach. Gazing energy radiates from inside out. It is alcohol glittering with colors of anger hope and all my emotions meeting at this one point. I seize a package of cigarettes. I do not want to smoke. It peacefully lies on my table, waiting for me to take one. I promise, seriously I do … I will take one, but not now.

A feeling of destruction is easily identifiable. Lately I think about success and misery. How human species tend to terminate their lives or slow themselves down, diminish its significance, in case they feel miserable. Drugs, alcohol and tobacco, who knows what else… chocolate, cholesterol... An impression that once you feel down, depressed, you fall into a trap of self destruction dominates my thoughts. You do everything to burry it down, wait for a new reborn, regeneration… reaching some kind of happiness through transformation and destruction. Get up stand up, don’t give up your rights… all right, here we go… I get it! It is paradox to say that the way out of it is getting up, standing and facing all of the depression through activity. Lying does not help much.

I take another nip of my wine. I put the glass on a window sill. The evening is calm, only birds’ pipe outvoices the soft sound of my chilled out music. The world can be a beautiful place to live. Just look around, listen, feel the fresh air coming through an open window. Do you see the Moon? Now I can, but even if you don’t, Believe me it is still there…