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 Weathered
Random Me and You

Zhanna Rohalska

    You know who I hope will read this piece? You.
    It is not an ode or an elegy- it is just a means to ease the unstoppable throbbing pain of my soul. I am still not sure if I am going to send it to you or not – but at this very moment I am revealing my deepest helplessness and it seems, that you are gently holding my hand. In reality you are probably asleep or working on your current earnings’ report for Yahoo Inc or some other blue chip company. Good for you. And for me too. Otherwise I would be with you physically, undergoing the worst pain of verbal misunderstandings and twirling in the agony of bodily aggression. By being distant, I have a perfect chance to cage my overblown dreams and frame them into the most romantic and detached visions. Sometimes I start thinking that you do not exist in actual form and even if I send an e-mail with these confessional thoughts of mine, I will never get any response. That makes it easier to write.
    Now I am almost near the end of the page and I cannot see its top where the title is because the Word Microsoft has an option of scrolling down. What is it anyway? How did I start my writing? When you get to read it- you will let me know, because I have no desire to go to the beginning now. OK?
     I will never reread this piece again. Moving forward, always forward. No paying attention to heavily breathing smelly labor men riding with you on the train and envious looks of wrinkled matrons thrown onto you as fishing nets. Never edit or correct the written- it cannot be changed in spite of the illusion of painless recreation, which is deceitfully cast over us by MS Word.
    Today I came to a discovery, that I have a very clear set of conditions in order to be able to produce something worth leaving behind on paper. I need first of all: your support. Your attention-at least a daily dosage of it. You have to water me as a flower, which still has substantial prospects of blooming. The second thing of primary importance is the stimulation methods. There are a couple of them. And they are also subdivided into several categories: 1. To boost the imaginative stream; 2. To prolong the creativity span; 3. To switch off the outside world affect. The answer to the first is a chocolate intake or some inspiring meeting/movie/song. The latter two are much healthier and longer lasting. The second condition is executed by means of either drinking some caffeine-based beverages- cappuccino for instance or a significant emotional trauma/positive stress, which keeps you safely and firmly from falling asleep for a while. The third requirement is the hardest to follow through since the outside reality is deeply encrusted into our inner world. The lights of the actual surrounding are always on and it takes a lot of self-discipline and will to turn them off on a regular basis. It is especially exhausting to achieve if without any helping methods, such as drugs or alcohol. As a writer, you want to be sober as much as possible, because you need to use every possibility to observe life in its most detailed and decomposed aspects.
    So far I am somehow managing all three things, though sometimes I fail. I still feel the piercing need in reality, because that is where you are available. Even my past is connected to the real world, that is why when you say good-bye to me, you will still live in my mind for days. It is inevitable – as soon as you touch me with your look at least once, you are captured in my memory labyrinths for good. I call them so because those passages are endless and very confusing - just imagine how many looks, touches, cries and smiles are stored there...
    I am pulling out of my mind the recollections of me and you. They are so random - random me and you...



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