silent__tempest - EN

A Poem by silent tempest

Just some thoughts I had while walking in the city.

   silent tempest - the quiet storm, that's me. At least that's how I named myslef, but I think that the oxymoron suits me well.

   It appears out of the blue, unvisible till the very last moment and then, when you expect it the least it strikes with full force. Unmercifully gets you down and showers with rain and hail. Devours you, invades you and fills you.
   Right there it shows it's true meaning, the aspects unseen before; pride, love, anger joy, rage and all at once. It does what it likes, It's an unstable element with its own unbridled sense.
   And when it's blown away, and you're not afraid anymore, you start to miss it. The world dull in a moment and the only mention of this storm stays in the silence - don't you worry, it's always with you, just hidden under the veil of shy.

   I was just a young guy who found writing amusing. Each time I lit a cigarette I thought of what would happen next in my story, but never was I satisfied with the pieces I‘ve written. The task of expressing myself seemed impossible. When I sat in front of my computer, I just couldn‘t pass my feelings trough the words.

Was it the apartment of Ethan - which I saw to the tiniest crack on the wall, or utopia of the New Earth where Ademar and Evelyn lived - addicted to the virtual realities where they spent whole weeks, or dystopia of Devon‘s - where people were under the oppression of the unjust government and worked their asses off for nothing greater than a view of the irradiated trees, eating a can of broth.
I wanted to posses the talent of writing and I wondered what the cost might have been. Time, time spent reading and writing.
Was the effort worth it?
And will it be?

My life was heading the wrong direction. I got myself kicked out from the university and for two months I was - without much endeavor - looking for a job. Of course I spent the time hiding behind the glow of my computer; watching series and movies, doing nothing other than wasting time - as always.
Suddenly I had to weak up from the sleep. Again I needed to sent papers to the universities. Then and there I realized, that I really can't process stress. If you'd seen me on the street, you'd see just another dull face; minding it's own business, but inside my mind and soul, deep down in my subconscious, there was a war raging. The result was that my stomach wasn't working as it should, I got my headaches back and my muscles were twitching.
By then I already knew " and god, it took me a while " that ladies look at the abs first, personality second. How they saw money " maybe a badge of power " I couldn't understand, and I had none; so I wasn't looking for a company of these. Also, the time was spring, when all living beings should want to reproduce and await the hot summer, but it was a damn cold spring. The air was still freezing and snow was holding like a leech. All I wanted was a thin fog in the morning, followed by a mild shower, leading to a sunny, yet chilly day.
I knew I had to workout and go for a run, and I was keeping the weather as an excuse, but this wasn't really what held me back. What kept me from action, was the wall of laziness I built. Yes, it was me who took myself the joy of living.
I barred myself from being the very best of me. The me, I secretly wanted to be.