ORNAMENTAL WOUNDS

It may remain the same, like the song, but I won’t. The wakefulness reigns, then all of a sudden, the shuddering void almost provoking nausea pops, to then, make you feel its spread like the one from a disease. Sometimes it manifests surprisingly seasonal, some other times utterly discretional, but no matter what, always slamming down the load on my unprepared surface like a block of concrete. I have come to the point of being appreciative and proud of the notches on this totem, at first feeling them like wounds, but after time has passed, they reveal themselves as delicately hewed ornaments on my cover. Though the fear, that ferocious vagrant, is still lying in wait for the unsurmountable sorrow to slide nimbly the pity in the pockets and make of the heavy weight a reason more to make me persist on the lethargy; i won´t surrender because i am not the same. Yesterday was marvelous, today too, tomorrow was nothing but a qualm wrapped up in cellophane hull; whenever the uncertainty visits grinding its teeth I retch compulsively, because although what will come won’t matter, this moment could be dexterously shattered. Am i starting to feel like jukebox stuffed with copies of only one record? So nothing else is listened, no occasion no risk… No, I am afraid that was way long ago when I had to repeat mantras until reaching mental numbness, to click the reprogramming key in order not to succumb to the deviated habits. The time is here in which difficulties, far from being discouraging and totally unable to create that old black hole in my plexus, grow me up stalwart in my newly acquired disposition. B_Nour