Static

It is 2 am, drenched in whisky and loneliness I sit at the rooftop. Fragments of our past pass through me, shattering the interior at molecular level. I feel like a satellite that got hit by a parade of solar-dust particles and cannot help but consume the impact and spin in frenzy circles as the pieces fall around in zero-gravity. It is violent but all I hear is this static that you get when there is no connection. I try but cannot locate the point at which this all changed from an adventurous roller-coaster to uncomfortable yet bearable torture. I gulp some more alcohol. As it goes down gashing my throat like a ball of needles, I look at the eruption of our existence, spread in a gorgeous night sky. What I am witnessing now, had happened maybe a million years ago, but it took that long even for light to reach us. I have this thought that the farther you get the deeper you can dive into the past. Maybe, that is why coming this far from you kept the portal of our memories still accessible. I have suffered a decade but it still feels fresh like yesterday. It is stupid but I try to imagine the force at which the universe would have exploded. Is it also suffering, I wonder?

barn in the middle of snow covered land
Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

11 Comments Add yours

  1. Indeed it is suffering as well, but somehow the Universe is also a master at carrying on… I dropped right in to where you were writing from. Lovely.

  2. Beautiful piece of emotions 🙌

  3. This piece is alive- with imagery, love it!

  4. Chagall says:

    You had me at rooftop and whiskey. 🙂 —CC Peace and health for you and loved ones.

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