our modern world
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Monday, April 02, 2007
we're here. trapped in our own rooms. screaming, banging our heads against the wooden boards that have grown weary through the years. we feel the dust running through our skin, slowly trickling, tickling our senses. they hear us.they hear us. and im sure they feel how our screams pierce through their ears while foolishly attempting to reach their souls. that would never happen. it never did.
we search for a bit of light through the cracks of the stiff drapes that completely cover our windows. and its a wonder how the darkness consumes us in the nights. how the symphony of cold, bitterness and shivers rewind themselves in the broken records of our minds and memories. and though a glum lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, its not enough to shed light on the carcass that once portrayed a bright smile. a smile that is no more. it once radiated the room, illuminating every corner. once, when the record player hymned harmony.
they now know.
... the light is silenced by the wind and so is the storytellers words. the children eagerly wait the continuation of their father's story.
"there is a wall that ruuuns right through me"- kreuzberg, bloc party
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