Repost from some forgotten notes

It has been a while since my last post. I feel completely blocked, and I am currently facing the inability to actually write anything other than short messages. Right now there are some things that I need to sort out for myself before I post anything new, so here is an old one, which has been lying forgotten somewhere in my facebook notes for almost a year.

Here goes.

Three months since my arrival in Poznan. Two more to go. I have had much time to think not necessarily about myself, but about life in general and what lies beyond it. I could finally release myself, even if not to a full extent and I believe I have had the chance to contemplate and learn about myself more than I have previously been able to. I have been through a lot, so saying that I am happy would make me a liar, especially after the last few unfortunate events that are still haunting me the way they do. However, I have once again rediscovered my desire and maybe motivation to write and I guess I shall be grateful for just this.

Regardless of time and space, whether I am awake or asleep, I am forever plagued by the most twisted coincidences, signs, recurring dreams, and strong, sudden feelings I cannot explain - all reminding me of the past in the most painful way, subduing my will. I am on my knees as my world was thrown into chaos and turmoil. It is no wonder that it is already taking its toll on my mind and body. As much as I would like to detach myself from everything - to move on, something is forcefully holding me back, punishing me in a more violent manner than previously, whenever I dare take a step or two. I am being kept on the edge of sanity, strong enough not to fall, weak enough to not be able to stand. Some wounds simply refuse to close, so wishing for them to heal is probably too much of me to ask. Even as I am writing this, I can feel my soul scream inside me as it dies a little more. I am fading.

In my constant wait for a something  - or someone I do not know, I often turn my head to the train station as I cross the bridge almost daily. Sometimes when I am not in a hurry, I stop for a short while to look at the trains... During winter the tracks were covered in snow, which has now been replaced by patches of grass here and there, and a few yellow flowers scattered around. A miracle in itself, I have to admit, for nature has its ways of sprouting life even where man has buried it under a thick layer of rocks and concrete. I have learnt that this is a city that is never at rest, not because it is filled with students, nor because of the nightlife. It buzzes from early hours till late into the night and is just as lively no matter the time.  Nobody really stops to give their bodies a minute to rest anymore, much less pause to look at the sky for a brief moment, which recently brought me to the conclusion that maybe I have also neglected myself, even though I did not notice at the time - I just never bothered to do anything about it. My soul has been yearning and my heart has been crying for a long time now but I have grown blind and deaf to my own needs. Looking at the tracks, my mind empties and I can almost feel myself beginning to float away, slipping from my body. I clearly do not wish to exist. Then I suddenly snap out of the trance and I walk away quickly. I still wonder what would happen if I let myself slip into the unconscious, but somehow, something is telling me the time for that is not yet upon me, therefore I continue to be anchored to this world against my will.

My room is on the back side of the dormitory, with not much of a view to offer, to be honest - just some gloomy houses and the top of a tower nearby. Somewhere in the horizon lies the small but always busy airport, which is 7 km from here - one insignificant detail which I really do not know why I remember. The more spectacular view is supposedly on the other side, which gives you a rather nice panorama of the "Rondo Kaponiera" - a roundabout and as far as I know, a very important point in this town. At night you can see the lights of the highway in the distance. I cannot deny that this urban landscape has a certain appeal, despite the roundabout currently being under construction... However, there seems to be something more special about the side of the building where my room is. It might not be as lively and surely not as sunny either, as the building casts a great shadow on this side, providing shelter from the bothersome heat and often too bright daylight, which I can say is perfect for someone like me. Nevertheless, it is... peaceful... the silence... the way the light of the sunset floods the rooms in some evenings... seeing the planes as they descend from the skies... it makes me realize that I am constantly waiting for someone or something, and sometimes this atmosphere gives me this indescribable feeling, like I want to erase my existence to merge with the infinite and become one with nature. There is something special even about the rain, if you watch it from here - but then again, rain has always had a special place in my heart.

Living in a dormitory together with so many people soon brought me to the point where no sound startles me anymore. Music academy students practicing till late at night, neighbors moving furniture at 3 AM, fights, parties going on upstairs, loud talking, doors slamming, plus many other sources of noise present here, not to mention the ambulances and police cars always speeding past this place... Last night though, nature decided to make me a pleasant surprise. I was woken from one of my usual dreams by some chirps around 5 AM - the same hour when oh so many other things have happened lately. It wasn't my first time hearing them, but something seemed different this time. I had always believed it was either someone listening to a recording of nature sounds, to help with their sleep, or just some electronic device. I lay still for a few minutes, staring blankly at the ceiling in the semi-darkness, listening, with no specific thought in my mind. My body stood up on its own as I absently went to the window, where I stopped for a few more moments. My hand reached out and opened the window and I realized that those chirps came from real birds. I stood there frozen, mesmerized by that harmony, my mind emptied and my heart strangely at peace. It was almost like it was orchestrated by a genius in the art of music - one bird somewhere close, singing in the lead, while a few other, a bit farther, formed a perfect chorus in the background. Just as absently, I closed the window, went back to bed and curled up under the blanket. An hour later their song had ceased. Nightingales? I do not know, I have never heard one, therefore I apologize if I am wrong by having made this statement.

I was never a person who loves the day. There is no mystery to it, the sun reveals too much, and there is no magic left at all. It is in the sanctuary of the night that I seek my refuge. Away from chaos and disorder, away from judging eyes, snug in the bosom of this time of magic and enigma. It is the time when I can finally fly away for a few hours, only to return in the morning.

Considering what has happened to me in the past two months or so, last night's event has left me slightly alarmed, feeling very uneasy. Do not ask, I cannot explain this even to myself. My senses are unusually sharp, and so far they have been accurate more than ever, so I am sure something is bound to happen soon enough. I can do nothing but wait and see what happens. In the end it is what I have done all my life - I must have gotten used to it by now... Alas, patience is not among my virtues.

I am yet to learn the true depth of myself and I highly doubt I shall ever see the bottom, but I am comfortable with this thought.

Now that I am back in my hometown, I wish I could go back. And I will. Just not back to the same town or even country. My chaotic, solitary life shall be my demise. May it be a sweet one.