CLEAN

My world fell apart at the end of 2020.
Perfect storm. Bigger than me.
I just gave up, so to stay in bed forever didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Months later I saw that it actually was,
so the lump I became started to do little by little those things that humans use to do.

Days kept being eternal, though, hit by bizarre dreams and painful memories;
a sort of a punishment insisting on things I thought I could have done better to avoid all that.

After trying unsuccessfully to ignore them, and also to deal with my insomnia,
I decided to face all those annoying thoughts that didn’t let me sleep.
So I set up a corner in my place where to try to calm them down, becoming a kind of a domestic Wailing Wall.
Just a black curtain, the hitting of flashes and me.

Later I got the habit of shooting whenever I felt I needed to, according to my mood.
A process that started defending myself from something, until I realised that I was not under attack.

Yes, there was something around, but it was still, impassive,
and the lesson to learn was that, wether I liked it or not, it had no intention of leaving.

Just in case I didn’t know yet who I was playing with, Life suddenly got serious and showed me its cards.