02 May 2024

The Doll And The Soul

 


She was standing still there on display of the big shop windows and watched the people passing by – some of them smiled, others cried and some of them with the concerned and worried faces. She was longing to feel the sweetness of the soul. She was watching people day after day and her desires grew bigger. As for her face, it remained porcelain white, expressionless and cold. People kept passing her by because of her abnormal beauty.

These routine days were endless until one day a small girl stopped in front of the window and stared at her – dark-haired, fare face with big sad emerald green eyes, torn clothes and dirty small hands. The small girl looked and smiled. Her dream was to look like the doll – slender body, shiny dress and transparent glass-like slippers – just like a princess from the fairy tales. She was smitten by the doll’s flawless face. She looked at the price knowingly that she cannot afford this beautiful doll and at the moment she realized that she could never have it, tears kept on rolling her innocent face. She had the feeling that the doll’s piercing blue eyes stared at her but they were empty, lacking compassion or any emotions, beautiful drownings but just that. And just like that the girl left.

Suddenly the doll felt pain as if a wooden steak went through her plastic ribcage.  She thought what was this feeling. She had never felt anything before and she was puzzled of the sudden change of her boring and predictable days. During the next couple of days, the little girl kept coming to visit her and to admire of her plastic beauty. A month passed by and the girl finally came with enough money to buy this dream toy. And she bought it.

The moment she went out of the shop, the girl smiled with a bright face and huge smile. Her green eyes looked even brighter on the sun. She could hear the music in her ears and she happily skipped to the park and sat on a bench. There was a cardboard covered in black plastic bags next to the bench. The little girl sat on the bench holding tightly the doll in her tiny hands admiring the sunny day. and out of nowhere, the doll spoke with a human voice:

-        What is the feeling of having a soul? How does it feel to love and hate? How does it feel to be happy and sad?

Surprisingly, the doll had picked the human language while they were passing by the store or they entered in and shopped for gifts. These words were meaningless to her but she was curious of their meaning. Then the little girl answered with a heavy voice:

-        My name is Lilly and you don’t want to have a soul. You don’t really want to feel what is love or hate; you don’t want to feel what I am feeling right now. However, I can tell you what is to feel hunger and what is to feel well fed, what is sadness and what is happiness. I can tell you everything.

The doll was excited and shook her head agreeing to hear everything. Then Lilly continued:

-        I had everything a child could wish for – a home – beautiful big house with tons of rooms, a family devoted to me and making sure that I feel secure and carefree. But then Dolly, I am calling you Dolly, then the life changed its course and took everything I have hold dear. The fire broke and burned down my home and everyone in it. When I returned to my home I only found ashes and nothingness. I was placed in one of those orphanages where children without families live. But I hated it and I escaped. I chose to live here, next to this bench begging for food and money, not knowing what the next day is holding for me; not knowing if I am going to survive the night or not. I am constantly mocked by the other people, those who have all they need. When the nights are cold, I am shivering and wondering if I can make it through the next day or not. But the worst pain of all is that I don’t have anyone to talk to, to share, to feel secure with, to relive the carefree days oblivious about any misfortune on the world – just be back to those happy days. However, days passed and I lost my hope for better life. I guess it is what it is.

-        What is Hope, Lilly? I have never heard about it.

-        Hope is this little thing keeping us alive. When it’s hard, the Hope grows bigger and it dies alongside our last dream departure. The hope gives us strength to face our fears and push through the worst moments in our lives. Unfortunately, our lives are not like the stories from the books – sometimes we don’t get our happily ever after, all we get is endless desperation and sadness.

Once those words went out of the child’s mouth, she started crying. The pain came back; the warm memories overtook for a while but the harsh reality caught up and took the hopes away.

-        I want to possess a soul! – the doll exclaimed, touched by the wisdom of the girl. – I want to be just like you – to feel, to dream, to love and to feel sad. I want to buy the soul but I don’t know where I can purchase it. I really want it.

Lilly looked at her confused and amazed at the same time. She didn’t understand neither how a doll can talk nor the passion and the desire to become a fragile human. She was puzzled how a toy can be so thrilled for things that it can fathom.

The day was over and the night sky was up. Lilly was tired from this day’s interesting turn. She got in the “house” and laid her head on the makeshift pillow, she covered herself and the doll with the old and dirty blanket and fell peacefully asleep. Then Dolly got up on her perfect legs and went out of the cardboard house and started walking through the dark alleys of the park. She saw a bench, climbed up and sat on it. She stared at the bright night sky and kept thinking about the soul and how wonderful it would have been to have one. She was tired of how people looked at her – a beautiful addition to every girl’s room. While she was thinking about it, a falling star appeared on the sky. She had come to the knowledge that if you see falling star and you wish for something, it will become true.

Lilly woke up on the next day. She couldn’t find the doll and her eyes were full of tears, her heath sank – she was alone, again. Even though she had Dolly for a day, she missed her – the first meaningful friend in such a long time. She felt the time spent with the doll as a small glimpse of light during the blackness of the moonless night – it appears once and never to return again. In the meantime, the plastic beauty was laying beneath the bench – covered in dirt and abandoned -  still hoping to buy a soul more than anything in this world.


21 April 2024

Fairytale Gone Bad

 




“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

This question echoes in our minds starting the constant comparison

Between me and them – whoever, I find as completion for the current situation.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

I can translate it to my life of race with a different time lines, all of them not mine.

Nothing is enough, I need to push through a bit more,

The finish line is near; I need to compete.

The life of constant marathon is so extremely tiresome,

My head can’t stand the quiet room – I need this done.

Define what is the end game of all these pushes,

Define your goal – you can’t, your mind is wired this way – so as mine.

Unable to sit and doing nothing, seeking for the adrenaline,

Generation taught to never get some rest,

We walk in our daily life aimless and lost,

Because our parents never showed us the importance of slowing down

Before the final push is on our way.

And I roam the streets stressed and exhausted,

I am feeling guilty that I won’t be able to take the first place.

Life of not taking it easy is a dangerous path,

Depression and anxiety are always present,

My companions from the early days when I have heard the words

That Evil Queen has been asking herself – perfection is set to be achieved.

And unlike most little children I have felt for the Queen,

That all her efforts were in vain.

But the life is not a fairytale – stop teaching your children

That the good should always prevail – what is actually the ultimate Good.

I have heard the villains are heroes never saved, never understood.

The real life is not so simple, what about the Evil Queen?

Have you really known the real ending of story?

The Queen was tortured by the so soft and gentle Snow White – the sweetest heroine.

And just like the Evil Queen I am constantly portrait like I am villain,

Simply because I know what is what I want.

And just like her I pursue my goals, I love my career,

And just like her I am so cold-hearted – determined is what I would describe it.

And just like her I am vilified that I don’t fit the mold forged

By those who try to overpower the determination of the woman’s mind.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?”

I am the one, my sweet reflection, never doubt your own reality.

We are the queens and kings in our own misfortunes,

As well as we are the Queens and Kings of our own fulfilled dreams.


20 April 2024

Display of Pain

 

Let’s begin from where we ended it the last time,

Carefully forgotten our wounds and scars.

Let’s begin from where we ended it the last time,

Where there is no light, just endless darkness,

Where it poisons the soul, enhances the loneliness and kills the hope.

Let’s begin from where we ended it the last time,

Where everything ends and new beginning doesn’t exist.

….

The white reflection in the mirror blinds the eyes

And somehow bashful – reluctantly

The Blindness “clothes" us gently.

How does it look like the invisible image?

How does the suffering feels like? – Grey in color.

 Let’s begin from where we ended it the last time,

Carefully forgotten our wounds and scars.

We cover them with multiple masks and make-up,

We pretend we are on stage performing a world class act

And when the play is over, we realize how cruel we have become.

Where are we going to end up living in an endless denial

Of the monsters we have turned into

– a horror movie on the small screen?

And we are trapped in the old webs of delusion,

Refusing to admit the mistakes, we keep committing sins towards ourselves.

And we keep dismissing the chaos of our wrong doings,

As if we don’t exist in flesh and blood, as if we are an old painting

Hanging on the walls of these ancient castles

– The Gallery of Self-inflicted Pain!