Pregnant with death Chapter 2

tuesday

12.

A bit of sun enters the transparency of a little balloon and makes them happy. It’s unbelievable. You’d think creatures that are so easily happy wouldn’t deserve to die. But I don’t like the life they love. I have learnt that love and everything loved is destined to be forgotten. The more you love, the more you suffer, the more you get new wounds. Look at yourself, have you never regretted loving? Most of the pain you have suffered was because you loved or believed, accept it. Love is such a delicate thing that the heart that hears it is destined to be wounded. Believing is so difficult that a believer has to fight with a world he cannot believe in. And this world in which one cannot believe inflicts such heavy wounds that you are amazed at the power of life and the world. Don’t look left and right to heal your wounds; no one is as close to your wounded heart as you are, nor does he want to be. Hate is always stronger. A body full of hate leaves more marks on the world and on people’s lives. There are so many things you can change the shape of with a punch, right? If you punch your lover, won’t he forget all the happy times he had? In fact, wouldn’t this person, whom you would give your life for, become your worst enemy? For all the things that a punch can change, a loving caress seems to fix nothing.
I’ve never really loved a man or woman in my life. How do I know that? I’ve lived in this world for twenty-three years, but I’ve never missed anyone. I can’t miss them. Do you understand me? What does it mean not to miss, not to love anyone? Do you know what it means? Who was the last person you missed? Who was the last person you missed and were you close enough for that person to reach you? Did you know you were missed? Who did you miss, the one who missed you or the one who didn’t even want to mention your name? When the one who misses you and the one you miss are different, a darker pain seems to settle in you. I don’t know. I’m sure I don’t live the same life as you. I’ve never seen anyone living the same life as me. Forget about me now. I’ll fill your mind with my words anyway. Now think about yourself; why do you miss the person you miss? And why were you missed by someone else? What did you have? That person couldn’t find it in someone else, maybe didn’t even look for it? Because he was sure you had what he was looking for. Have you met such a person? Did such a person love you? Someone who was ready to give his life to be close to you may have chosen death because he was far away from you, but you didn’t even know it. Couldn’t it be? Do not underestimate the feeling of longing. It is so important that one can live as long as one misses it. It seems to me that those who die are the ones who are sure that the things they miss are not in this world. I am a live bomb, let people know that. I have never missed anyone or anything. I am not a human being when I write these words. I am writing these words as a suicide bomber without faith. I don’t even know what my body, which I will blow up with a bomb in a few days, looks like. I don’t even look at my face. No, I don’t miss my own face, my own image. I’ve never missed it. I’ve never missed anyone or anything. I don’t miss it. Do you understand me? I never missed it. Do you understand me? I hated everything. If only I missed just one thing, then maybe I could easily hold on to life.