The pages are white, enhanced with uneven cream arabesques. My emotions follow a cadence, slowly making their way towards the end of the day. The air is crisp, which makes me reach for another layer to cover myself. I long for these moments during which everything blends, nothing erupts, and I don’t have to worry about predicting events, hiding behind control, and being afraid that something will turn calm into chaos.
I look up, left, right, sigh, and look back down.
My heart suddenly runs towards an invisible prey, accelerating the tempo of the beats. The flow of emotions increase, large and wide, taking up all the space in my body. It will never be able to contain all the concerns, questions, pain, and anguish.
“Oh no, what have I done, how did this happen?”
The pages are now smudged in black, grey shadows have lodged in between the arabesques, and covered the cream shades. I can’t see anything. The white has turned dark, the familiarity into discomfort, and the calm into worries. At times twirling inside my body, and other times expanding in my ribcage, I try to stop this madness, or at least slow it down. I try to prevent it from invading my limbs, organs, and any particle of my body.
I am scared it will stay with me forever.
It’s physical, yet I cannot grasp it. It’s textured, yet it flows underneath my skin. It’s a familiar feeling, yet I am unable to tame it. Inconsistent, tortuous, and overwhelming, it has destroyed the cream arabesques on my pages. I look at what this monster has created and I see the reflection of my inner turmoil, the untold, the secrets, and the shame.
There is only one way out of this madness.
I turn the page. Here is a new white space and cream arabesques which immediately soothe, one by one, my emotions. I can feel the crisp air, and I reach for another layer of clothing, appreciating the long moment during which everything blends, nothing erupts, and I don’t have to worry about predicting events, hiding behind control, and being afraid that something will turn calm into chaos.