Laying on the bed is better than on the floor. So quiet all around, the room full of silence and the peaceful purr of the computer on the background. I'm not dreaming, just sleeping. And in my sleep I can hear music and my heart start speeding, pulsing in my hears and I can't hear the music anymore, nor silence... shaking, I'm shaking but my feature rests peacefully laying on the bed and my soul is shaking and I know... I know before she tells me that there's something wrong, something terribly wrong, something I don't wanna hear! But the anger builds up and the anguish is there before I swallow it deep inside.
I haven't seen it coming. I just pretend.
I pretend sleeping while I hear my heartbeat racing and my mother saying: “bad news”.
Just bad news, another bad news, again and again bad news.
2009 sucks. I know it's not its fault, but it sucks nonetheless.
And I pretend everything is ok, but it's not and I know she wants to tell me she's afraid, but I don't wanna hear, and I don't wanna be afraid but I am.
What's this sound? Steps. Steps on the paving on the way to the hospital.
I hate hospitals. They want you to be brave while they tell you they're afraid and you should just pretend you're strong and try your best to appear relaxed 'till you believe yourself and hear those stupid words. Stupid words you want to trust. It will be ok. It will. In the end. And you end up believing it. In the end.


