Sunday, August 12, 2012

The Midnight Sun

   Don't ask me any questions my friend, I don't have answers for you, I don't even have any answer for myself.
   Does it hurt? Not anymore. It's been painful for so long that now the pain has turned into a part of me, a small piece that I have to carry with myself, because the reality is that it will never leave me. That piece is you, my friend, you and the distance that is standing between us.
   Did I need to go through all of this to realize who you really are for me? No, I knew it already. What was this journey all about? What was the meaning behind it? How could I be so blind? Leaving all you have for gaining something you wanted so badly... Was it worth the price? Was it a wise decision or a reflection of the wish staring at me?
   I tore myself into two pieces, two parts that will always be fighting against each other. Will the battle ever end? No, it's a part of me, a  part of the struggle I carry around within my broken soul. I draw a self-portrait with two different faces staring at one another. I turned my soul into a hallway with sliding doors and the ghosts of the memories keep hunting each other in those hallways. I did this to myself. I divided myself into two selves that are so alike and so different at the same time.
   I watch sunset while the other part of me desires to see the sunrise at that very moment. I try to get lost in the darkness of the night and the other half of me is seeking for light and sunshine. I stare  at the moon while the other self of mine sees the sun in the bright afternoon sky.
   And what do I get as  a result? A sunset followed my morning, the sun shining around the midnight stars.

   Don't ask me questions my friend, I myself have a lot of them, but I've stopped asking any. I blindly look at the sun, shining brightly in the middle of the night, surrounded by millions of stars...


                                                                                                                          © LiLit Ghazaryan 
  

Sunday, August 5, 2012

The Damaging Help

   I was standing in line, waiting for my turn to check in. Another flight was waiting for me, another short trip about which I was neither excited, nor worried. Two people were standing in front of me. From their conversation I figured out that they were father and daughter. The daughter was a young woman and it was obvious that she had a visual disability.
   I was busy with my own thoughts and was not really paying attention to them until their turn came to check in. The assistants wanted to help the woman and carry her on a wheelchair. The father was trying to explain that she didn't need any help, but they insisted. That's when he lost control over himself. Seeing that the staff did not pay any attention to what he was saying the old man got so upset that started to yell: "My daughter is blind, but her feet are fine, she can walk perfectly! She just doesn't see, but she can walk to the airplane herself..."
  "It's ok dad" was the only think the daughter said and sat on the wheelchair.
   The father's eyes turned sad, the upset impression turned into a feeling of guilt, he looked sorry, sorry for his daughter and for himself. There was so much pain on his face, he would probably just sit there in the middle of the airport and cry if he was not so embarrassed. He was watching his daughter leave on a wheelchair, feeling completely helpless himself.

   I was already on the flight back home, but I could still hear the old man's voice: "My daughter can't see, but her feet are perfectly fine!"

                                                                                                                                                               © LiLit Ghazaryan