Two decades over two millennia

The story I'm going to tell, is not my story. It is the story of someone, who is telling a story which is very similar to his own. The dream I will remember, won't be mine. It's the dream of someone who remembers a dream, that is very similar to his own. I think of stories I like to make stories. To tell them. I know this must sound like the dream of little Iasonas. What will he be when he grows up. When I wake up, it'll happen again. It'll start all over...

Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Ingrid

All my life I have been fighting this thing inside of me.

I couldn't tell anyone, not even my doctors.

Until finally, it drove me mad.

I have pushed the true Ingrid down,

but all the time I could feel her,

digging her claws into my skin,

begging to be let out.

You just, you don't know what it's like

to be constantly running from who you really are.