When you sit in front of a white piece of paper, itís like youíve been facing your whole life empty, and ready for you to grab it, twist it, turning any way you want. What am I doing here? I want to write, I want to say things as my heart lays heavy in my chest. Who am I? My name is of no importance, what matter is that Iím here and ready. Ready to talk and you better listen.
I walk on this earth alone and this is my destiny. I came to accept it. For Iím a man cursed deep down to the marrow of my bones. My curse is that of solitude. And in that solitude, the Gods spared me one thing. They gave me dreams to feed my shrinking soul that roamed alone in the vastness of the night. The dreams were sweet, oh so sweet I kept asking for them through the lines of characters that only existed in imagination, leaving them to inhabit my head, turning me into one of them at a time.
For I have lived a hundred lives and died equal deaths, for I have loved and I have killed. I drew my sword and cocked my pistol, I have said words of magnificent splendour, kissed many velvet soft lips, looked deeply into many moist eyes and hit my chest in fits of rage. And all that I lived inside my head.
But one dream escaped me. I had found it one night when I wasnít expecting of anything. It just came, and I grabbed it the moment it tore into my solitude, a thin line of light that ripped apart the emptiness of my darkness. The dream was slippery, the more I held on to it, the more it pulled away. And I, intoxicated by its brightness kept chasing it. Real true love that you can feel inside and out comes only once. Either the Gods had taken pity on me or they played my life on a game of dice.
Whatever way you look at it, I felt it. And the thin line of light that brightened my soul had become a golden river of a thousand candles that flood through my soul, stripping it bare like the stone licked by the waves of the eternal sea.
Light sipped inside my every nook and cranny, absorbed by the dryness my loneliness had created that had turned me into dust. Smile and hope flowered. And I believed and cherished the light. But for one man to harness this extraordinary feeling was too much for the Gods. It was too much to bear and I bowed my head accepting their decision. Once the light was gone, the darkness spread once again fiercer than ever before. Itís cold where I am. Penetrates your skin. Those eyes I see every night are empty while others that look at my own are hopeful...
I am a cursed man. Of that I truly know. I roam on the land of the dreams for I canít live on the land of the living. There is nothing there to stir my heart again. Whatever some poor soul may think... And those tender scared nervous lips that I happened once to taste, enveloped in a kiss that tasted of flowers in the summer is my tombstone. I have lived and I have loved and there are no two ways about it.
Iím not in pain. I feel nothing. Only the moment I hear my footsteps echoing on those wooden planks and the bright lights render my eyes blind...itís like that familiar light that once visited my life. And once again I feel. Bright colours of feelings that crash me completely in their intensity. They love me, I can hear it in their clapping and their cheering. Thatís my home. Where my curse pretends not to see, to let me breathe and live just a little through my dreams.
So there, I said it, I wrote it. But please donít take pity of me. Pitying a man with no hope is a feeling carelessly spent. Open your hearts and may you be lucky to have light burst inside you like a star exploding on the sky. Because true love comes only once. Believe me, I already know.