Invisible. A breath and she’s gone, a remembrance, a fleeting thought, a reflexion and nothing but a matt shade of the place where she was sitting before her stream of consciousness met the most beautiful, crystalline little emerald green lakes she had ever seen.

Nevertheless, she was invisible. Nobody would notice her in a crowd or walking down the peeling wall where the seminars were held. Every day her feet went the very same road, one after the other, but she never wanted to be there.

But truly, she was not even there.

She was not a spot of light in the darkness, neither a mirror which reflects what one needs to see in it, dazzling and perfect. No, she was no diamond.

That was a lost moment, in a little bittersweet world full of lights and shadows but mostly shadows. No. She was like a flower which grows at the edge of the road and does not amaze the lonely walker, who barely sees it and almost tramples it. She may raise the curiosity of a child, once in every lifetime, to get back then to her thoughts. To her lonely thoughts at the edge of the road.

Still, who could ever understand the stirrings of her soul, the torment of her heart, the contrasting emotions that tear her inner world apart and grow up so intense and strong that they eventually choke her breath with tears?

If only her heart could speak out loud, it would narrate about all those moments of sufferings as it was about to explode and create an empty space that nobody could ever fill, that maybe was not worth being filled since nobody would ever notice the absence of a ghost who walks down the street unseen, where millions of people walked the same way, hand in hand, laughing, loving, suffering.

Her absence would have never bothered anyone, she would have noticed that though. Since she would not feel the same emotions anymore, all that inner crying and the pulses of her heart. She would have avoided the pain, true, but only physically since the inner sufferance was a part of her world. Still, she was no more there.

She was travelling into the wild, free lands of hope, where everybody watches and nobody sees, with no preconceptions, shame or criticism. She was being herself with all the shadows of her life, with her dark eyes and the pulse of life that nobody ever saw since everyone sees but nobody watches.

She was invisible.

And free.


A thought

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s