Emotions. They come as a tide. They overtake you ruthlessly and urge you towards a whole new universe of feelings. They play with you as a small child in the sandpit of despair or immense joy. They ascend you for a moment and then tantivy throw you at the bottom of the ocean of broken dreams. Their blades nail your naked soul and inflict the last stroke. How light and ephimeral could the soul a fairy. And how it hurts when it is wounded. It dashes as waves against the rocks of the flesh and crashes as foam…until the next wave. For eternity. Everything in you becomes desolate.

And then the timelessness occurs. With its monotony. It sticks to you as a candy floss and overflows as smudged makeup. The curtains descend, the clown takes off his red nose and colorful hairs, the lights get turned off and the audience leave. The truth is that when in sorrow the man is always alone. As a gladiator at the arena on the verge of battling a beast. You either win or get defeated.

The real cure is time. The days from the calendar fall down as the leaves from the autumn coat of the forest. The sun rise gets replaced by a sun set and again and again. Until the feeling of pain fades away. Until the next sun rise when the soul welcomes the day with a new smile, new hope, new love. And the world is beautiful again.


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