VIA DOLOROSA

Pain. Painful goodbyes, painful silences, in short, painful experiences among fragile bodies. Pain writhing, deserving matter inheriting tiredness, there is not a single cell in the body, or a single nook of the soul that escapes the enraged whipping of being alive. Things should flow as you go there, where the lighthouses arise, but the walking advances by fits and starts. My name changes, my color turns iridescent with the shades of all the wheels in the paint catalog. At every slight shove my identity seems to be lent, I have another face, another attitude, aaah…whims of this dimension! Materialized absurdity that we grab as the only truth. And it hurts, and the more we pull the thread, the bigger the ball we wind it up with gets. And its weight, and the load… and it is more difficult to get back to the first rounds, where things were easy. The race is merciless, contestants charge against contestants. The born good turns bad, for no reason, there is no motivation for the order, just mess and chaos. Today stands a glass between me and you, it is sweating garnet salty drops with growing density; as it covers the gaps from which i still can see you through, I feel the ingrowing. And yes, it hurts, but it is necessary. Submarine trip to the unknown, that should calm the instability, guide me to the coast, give me ability of the singing the siren’s song. This is just part of the process, I know. B_Nour