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sâmbătă, 23 februarie 2013

The Second Letter


           There must be a choice matter to someone’s actions you’re about to write  to; a resonance of flesh as if she may try the flight onto time’s wings. D. wished to wear her wings to bridle the sky without clouds. She has to re-define herself on a lonely road, that’s the road of change, to keep her spirits high around stangers.Estranged , though she felt for so many years and pushed to unknown rainbows.The scapegoat of dictatorship is haunting her thoughts all over the place, like a fiend shrieking for some fresh food to be devoured to.
            The fish shaped country’s borders is sinking like a boat onto waters of change, where Iron Curtain never fall.We should forget all about by a simple laughter, it won’t be easy to wear a postcard on your face, it’s hard to remember something these days when people put a black shroud to cover up their secrets.And people have secrets untold too, that’s the world’s mechanism.You don’t need a heart anymore, you must buy a loaded gun to courtesy war into your own piece of land, though it may took centuries to grow on this path.
            Silence may keep hearts apart, then; there is no pulse left to this world.All should begin to once upon a time when beauties around were described by colorful sights of yours, right?Romania was never enough, far from being great  to some of you, where benevolence was forbidden to all. People have never suffered from weaknesses until bloody December 1989.But Time was a fool to these people.Drama accompanied youth onto the grave and its red crosses to justify their wasted life for a defeated cause.It was no freedom of thought as all have dreamt of , the audience must be convinced, it  has to be a pendullum?
            A question have opened the Gates of Silence sticked to an unwritten scenario- where the neverending thurst cannot be cut down by self doubts, can you?
            D. cannot sink her dreams to a grey scale reality, will you? Nor Birmingham’s silent  pavements may cope to herself, nor even dare to endanger her frail frolic rebirth under the empty stairs of knowledge. She must be felt the Victorian Age to its Dwarf Monument like Deceit conquering Truth. She has to re-build  the puzzle with red bricks from the buildings. The world is up to her theory of deconstruction, she has all those broken pieces to polish the smiles from passengers to New Street.It’s charming to walk to Chamberlain Street, like a fresh spell  to Four Winds.Reality has to be locked into a box and its keys eaten.The great Opera Mirabillis  must be a blizzard of Fire to Eastern World, where time diminished  blessings onto people. Laughter was perceived as an act of foolishness, though Freedom may appear from pitch dark under the crowd’s footsteps.The echo is running faster than light , it might had been locked into four walls of an wretched spirit.The laughter will never be heard , she thought amongst new world which flourished to her eyes.
The Eastern naïve thought cannot be compared to Western civilization.It may follow, though a night full of wonders, questions without answers, the cynism and a door it had never been opened to her.
Gaiety have started to fickle in the middle of nowhere by sixty- seven pounds, every week.The world’s weight more than that?!to one single meal…..
She was obsessed by starvation, she wished to be so mean until hatred will be erased for good.
Never doubt, it’s better than ex-communication!
Deliberately, you may lose your temper to look at mixtured features of world’s.
Culture and Art go on the street, along by  people preparing for a jazz performance to the marbled icy stairs of the Museum.It was about to begin in half an hour.It’s July 19-th 2010 A.D.
D. enchanted her sights by fire-works blooming into the dark shapes of the sky and felt smooth raindrops washing her muddy face.It might felt to be imprisioned by so many lights, the first signs of misfortunes and dellusions.
            The stamps on postcards were cheap enough to be from Eastern World, she thought of….
It had never been this way, it’s another easy path to be followed to.She came across the coffee shop , looking at people inside like a dog barking at the Moon.Time must be taken measure by measure to every drop, whereas morality and perserverance were hanged by wrong matters.
There was nobody.
The door was pushed away.

3 comentarii:

  1. "Time must be taken measure by measure to every drop, whereas morality and perserverance were hanged by wrong matters.
    There was nobody.
    The door was pushed away."

    these ending lines just resonate with me.

    I feel strongly connected to your words Dana.
    looking forward to the third letter^^

    1. Hey Alec I am so happy that you've enjoyed to read this text....It means a lot to me :*

    2. Alec I am working to the third letter, it means a lot to me to know that you liked it.It's all about being strong and fighting for our dreams, you know, nor matter others have something to say, you should follow your path and move further......All right I will post ''The third letter'' in few hours
      Blessed be