Just My Soul Responding.

Chapter XIII: Beautiful things.

I am in my head again. I am having an insatiable desire to get stoned again. I remembered that I have a gram or two of OG Kush back at my place and that thought alone scared me. I know that I will cave in at some point this year, but I promised myself just after I got down from that rooftop to stop for at least for six months. It has only been five weeks. My suicidal thoughts are not coming at me like that used to. I'd like to believe that I am getting better, that I am healing but I learned that I can't be sure about that. I still have suicidal thoughts popping out from time to time. Like the one I am having right now while I am standing here waiting for the train to come. Platform Five can be the last place. The train is coming; everybody is stepping back a little. Just one step that step that I have failed to take back then. Everything can cease to exist in a blink of an eye. Just one more step. It felt everything is going real slow and there is almost no sound at all. That's what it felt like in a crowded train station. That's what it felt like while listening to 'Ghost walking' by Lamb Of God. No sound at all. I stepped back like I did hundred times before and entered the train. I just bought a cheap nude painting; everyone in the train is looking at it and looking at me at the same time. Two naked bodies one of them is smoking. It is not a Mateja Petkovic good but it is still quite alright. I wondered why it was on sale. On an empty street downtown Algiers. I sat down and my mind took me where I was just an hour ago. In college sitting on a bench with her. It is my mind's and soul's favorite place; with her. Two worlds colliding. The mixture of the past, the present and the future in seconds. Creating future memories to happen right now. I grabbed my notebook and I wrote down 'Small Beautiful things.' Beautiful things like her smell that it is still on my cloths, like her breath that it still on my neck and like her kiss that I can still taste. Beautiful things like these small heart shaped paper that she made me so I can put it on my notebook, like a funny language that we created for fun but now it became part of how we talk. I have been tormented by the thought should I tell her? I know she would understand but it is a hard thing to grasp. Even though I am as human as one can get but I still have A.I instead of my brain. I still can't have children. I am still a threat to people like the government says. I have been making a list named ''reasons to stay'' on my notebook and I have been trying to write things down every day. I wrote down her and beautiful things. Today Beautiful things that is her have saved my day. My mind lately have been daydreaming about her a lot. Everything I see and everywhere I look, it reminds me of her. How would I avoid all of these things? Or is it too late for me? It feels like I am lost in various worlds except when I am with her talking to her. It is the only world I want to be lost in.

I got back to my apartment, lit a cigarette and hanged the painting above my bed. I am loving the details of this. I don't understand the meaning behind it but I learned to love mysteries. I am not running to find and put a meaning to everything anymore. Sometimes meaning ruins beautiful things. I am just going to look at its fulfilling details. I am enjoying beautiful details, details like this last puff of my dying cigarette.

'Have you ever wonder why we see things like this beautiful? I mean what is beauty? What makes a thing beautiful? I mean is there a link between ugliness and beauty? Because some people will not see this painting as beautiful.'

'Yeah that's something to think about.' I said as I laid in bed looking at the painting; The Weeknd is playing in the background.

'And it is not only about paintings. Music, movies, Novels and not only the controversial ones like Nude paintings, or erotic novels like the ones I read this week Ada or Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. I mean every creative endeavor from creating sculpture, perfumes, painting to photography... et cetera can be ugly to some people and aesthetically beautiful to others. I wonder why? How can something be so beautiful to some and hideous to others?'