//July 30, 2010//
On the middle of my silent tears or remorse, I’ve been looking desperately to my calendar. Counting weeks, months, and a little bit of days. I’m lost with days, and some dates. So it’s kind of shock to know it is the end of July. My gorgeous and proud July, the mighty warrior and the lonely dawn. Where beauty is lost in the middle of dark room and we find the light when the corridor is empty. The midnight was awful, full of silent painful tears. And the morning was too bright, and full of fake giggles. So I live the days and walking past through it. Proudly, but still with fake giggles.
July was everything, it was the beginning and also (what I thought) an end. But surely, my ending was already past in June and maybe some October. August will come to pick me up, and my calendar is still empty. There’s no circle, star or some red ink scribble. Reminding the dates of some significant events, or later, moments.
Planning wasn’t my thing this time. I just want to be floated on the river, where the end doesn’t mean midnight or some painful good-bye. I want to be floated around the cloud, where the ceiling doesn’t mean atmosphere layers or some burning rays. Still, I have some fake giggles and I’m still talking with my wall, on the middle of another silent tears or remorse.