Chess of Life

Philipp Fontao_da_Silva_Vida

by Philipp Fontao_da_Silva_Vida

Story
Vienna 2021 – 2023

Here I am, here I ended up, the last version of me tasting the iron of the blood in my mouth and being tired of fighting.
The last version of me still standing but ashamed of doing so. The last version of me ashamed of not knowing how to conquer Life and only being known for The one who tried and The one who didn’t succeed
So here I am, here I ended up, only to wait for that version to be erased too. To fall too, to finally join all his brothers, his other versions of himself. So here I am, this last version of me who tried avoiding Everything – people, situations and feelings. That last version that couldn’t express the anger and frustration and the loneliness the way he felt them. And so, I would smoke the green, drink the black and snort the white. I would pop the M, take the R and swallow the V too. I would mix and match trying to find the perfect dose that would mask all the ailments. Finding the perfect alchemist potion that would alleviate all that pulled me down towards Earth’s Core, the place to witness my shame.

And so, in this game, this Chess of Life, the game of making it to the other side, me, as the last pawn, the peasant to others, I stood there waiting for my fate. I was ready because no matter the cause, in love or war, I was this exchangeable piece that mattered nothing. This anchored me, keeping me in place. It kept me stuck and kept me haunted by all those demons, all those memories of all the previous versions of myself. And so, for the last time, before my final death, I was looking for help again. 

The help to self-destruct in 
Three
Two
One thought remained: Life was supposed to be this warmth. That warmth that one could feel on the inside. The internal sun that would and could never be gone even when it was time for it to go to sleep. But Life for me was more reminiscent of the Moon. That distant, greyish and icey reflection of itself, of the sun. 
I somehow knew and still felt that this internal light would be somewhere. But still, I just could not find it. And so, I figured Life could never give me what I wanted and needed, and I figured I could never pay tribute to Life in a way that it deserved. 
So I awaited death. I awaited death when I almost drowned in Lake Zurich and I awaited death when I got hit by that tram in Basel and got dragged along with it. I was waiting and ready for it to come. But it never did. It left me here on these burnt grounds. Even death turned its back on me and showed that I wasn’t welcome there either.

It was never about me killing myself, to kill even the last part of me that I came to loathe, bluntly, to Kill Phil, it was more, that I wouldn’t have minded if he died. But eventually Death came to me. It arrived, though not in the way I expected it to show itself, but nevertheless, I was happy it did. It arrived as the death of my belief system and what I held close to my heart, and as the death of that part of me that was clinging to the past and repeating it.

It meant The Beginning of Something New, and it meant: The Death of Anything Dear.


(To be continued in The Death of Anything Dear)

© Philipp Fontao_da_Silva_Vida 2023-08-17

Genres
Self-help & Life support, Biographies
Moods
Challenging, Emotional, Informative, Inspiring, Reflective
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