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“The aura given out by a person or object is as much a part of them as their flesh.” Lucian Freud

The beginning and the end tightly connected with atoms in between the matter and flash.

I closed my eyes. On the inside of my skull there was a writing. Scratched in between the cracks of passing times. Much older than I could remember. Each time I blinked the memory would pass and writing was vanishing yet it projected itself anew. Still burning with a strong light. The noise entered the quiet places of my mind. The residues of past feelings of unworthiness stained the moment of celebration while doubt planted itself. It manifested as a kind loving side yet the friction it formed set the alarm. Red blurred the vision bringing forgotten times to foreground. Excitement of the happenings awakened ego. Layers distorted perception. Eagerness to remember how it felt to be good when pain eases numbed my mouth. Endorphins fled in. Yet the fear of end stayed. How can I stay peacefully happy when the threat of past still lingers. What started with an idea flooded veins with fire. Unknown knowledge saturating the tissues. The horizon is shifting bringing confusion. Cracking appears releasing the old allowing light to fill dark matter of the past. What was known is gone. Nightmares of graveyard soil steam new life. It softens the solidified memory of pain allowing wetness to release particles. Looses the binding emotions allowing them to filter leaving patina of sediment behind.

This is the path to healing, understanding and inner guidance. Path to emptying and shedding the known. Gently touching skin as it grows back on bare tissue. Virgin softness clashing with anxious eagerness to learn. To uncover and leave behind. Thousands of years of golden light shining so bright one cannot see pass its brim. No shadows form.

I found himself in the dark. End of the tunnel. My body shaking from cold and fear. I escaped within from the sounds. Just an echo stayed yet the deafness filled my heart. This time I sat paralysed, my hands spread wide apart to avoid feeling own skin. Shame grew thicker on the surface between fingers and skin. Exaggerating each pore. Feeling of imperfection penetrating into my young soul. Filling me with darkness, suffocating the communication. I sat pushed against the wall awaiting the end, signal I was safe, yet with each passing moment anxiety felt deeper. I was getting ready for the battle. Own and lonely.

Darkness is banished in the blinding glow. Yet within there is a battle of what is real. Fool's gold growing deep, binding into tissue, paralyzing the currents from flowing. Monologue of silent voice from ancient past.

Then I made myself forget. I pushed away all the thoughts and all the memories from my mind. I pushed them deep inside of me to the darkest parts of the corridor so it didn't hurt, so I didn’t remember the shame. Yet every time I would get closer to someone the emotions would come out. The fear, the shame, the pain I didn’t want to remember. It was easier to proceed with my life and just be rather than face all the tears. Face the pain. Face the shame... I was only a scared child.

Fear is immunized within the being accepting the given. It rottens covered by fumes of artificial scent. Plastic micro prisons float in the air polluting responses. Nothing is clear. Everything is frosted. Non existent clarity.

I got pushed against the wall. The pressure so big that I was gasping for air. The hard surface behind my back was pressing against my spine and it hurt. I didn’t want that to hurt so I escaped inside. Created a world, inside of the world, inside of the world… There is a heat, one I cannot take anymore. It burns my skin with the red feeling of shame. There are no tears. It is so hot they all have dried. But I cannot make it disappear. Vanish and admit to everyone that I was so lonely, so lost...

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