Mythos

Dreams and Reality.

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 , 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧.

As my consciousness faded, I found myself in another world, in a distant past and in memories faded by pain. At its peak, the moon's majesty seemed to sublimate all of existence itself, as if it were the only true being in a world with nothing left to lose, a light in the eternal darkness of the universe, a beacon for those who have lost their way and may never find it again.

Its unique glow pierced the dense clouds under the dark sky, even illuminating my defeated face, showing the spirits of nature the tears now streaming desperately down my cheeks, and through the sorrow I truly felt my chest burning with pain, shaken.

And in a reverie, I lost myself as a conscious being, avoiding the burden of remembering what I was supposed to do, deceiving myself and accepting the unreal over the real, as if I mistook love for a sunny day, living through a lie that now blossomed in the midst of the blunt, destructive truth.

The avalanche of doubtful feelings seemed to throb along with my brave heart, and in the rhythm of the beats that move me, the doubt that crawls abundantly through my naive mind seemed to end in a painful conclusion that made me cry profusely.

Crying with despair, crying for the days I would live without them, crying because the world seemed too cruel. So who am I? Where do I come from and where do I go? The fire with its ardor made me dream naively, but why believe? Why trust in an illusion created by those you embraced and loved so much? The June of lies and truth now before my eyes, what am I to believe?

Hidden in sepia tones, the ultimate and absurd fact, the statement that made it a tragic realization. Again with the conjectures, I ask myself: Will the rain ever stop? It's been cold for a long time... Why? Why did the rain choose me? Why does it insist on choosing me, who has nowhere else to go? Can I let it cover me? So it continues to fall, not knowing when it will stop. On the fine line that traces interpretations, surrounded by so many questions, biased by conclusions. What to do then? Please answer me! I cried, I shouted, I screamed. What could heaven do for me? Nothing, nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing... I'm sorry.

I clenched my fists, my tattered clothes now wet from the torrent of suffering, a weary countenance stamped on my being. The laments continued to fall on my cheerful but defeated face. Defeated from crying so much, tired of deceiving myself, and now determined to accept it, even if it was painful.

──── Why...? Why have you left me here, alone? With nothing. Without... You. ──── My voice seemed to fail me, shaking. I had never felt so much sadness in my short life, and this moment seemed to prove that even with my brave heart, the foundations of my being could be shaken, and the fragility of all things now seemed apparent.

The stained letter, the gravestones marked with their names. In the mud, in the gutter. The blue spheres seemed to glow, and even in the midst of this situation, I still had a bit of will left, a remnant of those days. I would follow their wishes, it's the right thing to do. I'll go on, even if it hurts. Even if I plunge into waters so dense that they could crush me, I will do it. One last word then.

──── Goodbye... Mom. I'll always love you and remember every second I spent with you. The teachings, the flowers we loved so much. Your loving look and your sunny hug. Smile, Raphael! That's what you always told me, right? ──── Difficult. This feeling that something is stuck in my chest, weighing down your words. Swallowing dryly. Lips now curving into a forced smile, painfully reminding me of the scene before my eyes.