There is a world, inside of me
One that no one can ever grasp,
nor that can imagine imagination
and realize realisation
where truth lies in the corners of the eye
where the stairs lead to
a place you can not see
that is where you will
maybe find a small part of the real me.
So, this morning I had the final interview for a job. (Well, the only (real) one that actually responded on my application). So far things went okay, except for today.
Was there in time, prepared myself, but it didn’t go nice somehow. I left with a weird, nasty feeling.
The interview was with different persons then they informed me, and they asked questions and I tried to answer everything. Asked questions about the job. But there was something that did not go so well, though its hard to say what it exactly is. It’s more a feeling. It had to do with the atmosphere.
I also know that there will be some people now who will not make it. Today and tomorrow there are interviews and there are more people coming for an interview than there are jobs (they have a few temporary positions, all the same). Anyway, I left there with a very weird feeling. Now I’m also wondering if I can do this job, if I would like it, too. It looks less nice than before, my head spins a bit.. But the most present thing that occupies my mind: I have the feeling I will not make it. Untill now, everything went well, but this, ruined everything. I don’t know. It just didn’t feel good.
It still, doesn’t feel good.
Blue skies, where clouds gather (sometimes)
from which I’m seperated, and where freedom (lies)
seperated from all the outside world,
Thorns in rows, blocking the roads that leave this place
But I captured the sun in my imagination
And when freedom is taken from you
maybe all you can do, is take freedom back,
where no one can see it.
(I guess the book of Viktor Frankl; Man’s Search for Meaning inspired me – it’s a recommendation to read, and the image (which I made myself), linked my brain to this book which I’ve read a while ago)
A cloud has fallen down and
covers the streets, the buildings, the roads
Like snow used to do, in harsh winters.
it looks like a ghost town;
an empty theatre
with an intact stage
A hegdehog is trying to find a way
walks through the fallen leaves
in search of shelter,
in search of food;
the birds are nowhere to be seen
bushes have grown wild- but they are losing their leaves
and become carcasses
standing lonely in the fog
You want to take my blood,
But no way you will find it.
You search for my veins,
but no way you can find them.
My blood is not where you
are looking for
where you supposed to be
looking for it,
give up your search,
it will always be
out of reach.
time to go to the frontline,
and fight these ongoing wars
and try to redefine
myself, who that exactly is
I do not know
But sooner or later something must appear
or maybe not.