Inspiration is a lie..

"What do I know?" 

That reality is hard to grip. That things are harder than they seem. That my words are nails on a board."

"Don't be afraid of the words."

"How? It happens that I am someone with a fear of change. Not open minded, you say? No, I promise, I try. I do. But I slip."

"Tear ink. You know, the bravest words are not words but tears and blood. Be that miserable villager with the dead wife and the jail bars. One million open scars and a barely beating heart. You're not afraid. You're free. Explode. Explosions never care who's watching and who's listening. Fuck the voices behind your eyes and explode."

Mother, I'm fine. Father, I'm a millionaire, father!
And brother. Years ago someone told me to explode. Brother, be a designer. That's what you always wanted. They will care, they will talk then they will not. It's something like Miners and Diamonds. Bruises, years and little hope. But it happens. Chances cease to happen though.
And
"Stranger with the Big words. I hope all your dreams came true."

"There's something you've got to know."

"It's been a while. Hey. What is it?"

"Don't stop writing that very first draft."

"I have the money. I have the fame. I didn't want it badly but it's prettier than the picture of it. It's everything. I can stop. I'm not inspired."

"Inspiration? That's the next thing with the hidden fangs and lovely face. Don't trust a beast. Beautiful beautiful boy, he loves you, he demands you be his forever. The next day, he's gone. It's a beautiful trap no one misses. But see, you get past it if you dare punch him in the face. Inspiration, Filthy, unfaithful, kid. Stupid, stupid, filthy kid. Beautiful is a lie. You don't get to see what's underneath. So fists up. You're fighting. Remember though: Tears and blood. Doomed villager."

" 'You're crazy. I'm okay. I'm not the girl with the secret need. I'm fine with everything.'

'I'm fine.'

'I'm fine.'

'I'm fine.'

'Why don't you answer?'

'Hey?'

'Hi?'

'Is it something, I said?'

'I didn't mean it badly. I won't apologies.'

'Okay?'

I go back to the years old draft. Messy. Nonsense. Unreadable. Just shit.
I sit though. I sit and I cry, my ribs open.

Messages he'd been sending me. Maybe it was for a reason after all. What reasons? I share no credit with anyone. What reasons?

Reasons, so many reasons. I miss the sound of his words."

"Reality is hard to grip. Things are harder than they seem. But your words are hands on a heart."

"You're back. Were you mad at me? Why were you mad at me?"

"Mad? I wasn't."

"You disappeared."

"I was dead."

"What?"

"Dead. I'm that boy with the scar. I'm the boy who died the day your first draft got finished."

"Who?"

"I'm in the words. In your story."

"
The character I killed. The one boy the world was missing.

'But I killed you.' "

"When your words exist. I'm never be dead."

"What did you want from me?"

"To make your reality easy to grip."

 
Aurthor : Wiem Jalleli