A Short Story In a Few Words

TO 13 15 13 3 8 9 12 - WHO MADE ME BELIEVE IN VIOLET


EMPTY, PEACE, SOUL, SMILING, STARS, BEAUTY, SPIRIT, EYES, VOICES, SILENCE, WIND, DARKNESS, FIREFLY, GROUND, FLOWER, HEART

EXPLANATION: (longer than the story)

I am (empty) but at last in (peace) with myself. I burned everything human in my (soul); now, for the first time in my life, I am (smiling), smiling with joy. The night is splendid because the (stars) are lonely again. Their (beauty) is cold - they just stay there, blinking, being part of the Divine will.
I am a (spirit) - transparent and gentle. I ripped off my heart, I sent away my soul; I have two pieces of ice for (eyes). I see people, many people. I hear (voices), many voices. Then (silence), it's only me. Do you hear it, do you feel me? I love listening to the sound of the silence - it's an endless song, sung by the (wind).
I look around, and there she is, wearing her favourite violet dress, gazing at me with her violet eyes, full of goodness. She smiles at me and disappears in the (darkness). I smile back, trying to keep her image forever in my mind. I start running...I run and run...she was here, right here.
At the place she stood a second before was only the royal (firefly) ballet, performing complicated dances under the melodious repertoire of the classic frog and cricket choirs.
I kneel down and take from the (ground) the little violet (flower) she has dropped. It is so fragile and yet it has all her beauty. It was her heart and she gave it to me - the appalling spirit with no (heart) and soul, cold as ice.
It happened 452 days ago and I am still searching for her. I know that I will see her again, playing with the squirrels or picking flowers. Now, I have violet heart. The ice from my eyes melted down and I see the world in violet. I am not a spirit anymore, neither a shape, nor a shadow. She taught me that I should not feel sorry when a saga ends because every "Bummel*" has its end.
DO NOT LET HER GO AWAY BECAUSE SHE IS...VIOLET.

* From "Three Men on the Bummel" by Jerome K. Jerome
'A "Bummel", I should describe as a journey, long or short, without an end; the only thing regulating it being the necessity of getting back within a given time to the point from which one started. Sometimes it is through busy streets, and sometimes through the fields and lanes; sometimes we can be spared for a few hours, and sometimes for a few days. But long or short, but here or there, our thoughts are ever on the running of the sand. We nod and smile to many as we pass; with some we stop and talk awhile; and with a few we walk a little way. We have been much interested, and often a little tired. But on the whole we have had a pleasant time, and are sorry when 'tis over."

WHY EXACTLY BLACK...?

Have you ever seen black people? I mean really IN black - wearing black clothes, black shoes, black make-up. (If you have not, I will be glad to meet you!) And what do you think of them?
If you are one of those who say: 'Wow, look at them, they are like creatures coming from the Hell, garbed always in black. Those are black-wearing psychoes', then I guess that you should not read this.
But let me tell you my story...why exactly black.
My life did not begin with my birth; it rather started when I first realized that I live in the Middle of The Ocean. I encountered many stroms of depression. (During a storm The Ocean is violent, really tempestuous). The only thing that was able to save me was the black color. Hardly anyone could believe that the first time I dressed in black I felt secure - protected by the phoneyness of the world.
There is a song: ' I wake up in the morning/Put on my face/The one that's gonna get me/Through another day/Doesn't really matter/How I feel inside... Having a face that's getting you through the days is not enough because it works only for a year or two. Then, again comes the disappointment and the resentment you feel for pretending to be happy does not make you really happy. In the moments when you are all by yourself, you take off the face and are left with nothing but the joy of something that has meaning for you. If there is not such a thing, create one. I did it for myself. I woke up one lovely morning and the first thing I decided was that I start wearing only black. This morning was not arbitrary chosen by my inner self. It was two years ago, when I could not use my tired 'faking' face anymore.
There should be a song: 'I wake up in the morning/Put on my black shield/Ready to defeat the storms...
Do you believe in symbols? I personally love them. Recently, I read in a magazine article that the favourite color of a person is indicative of his or her kind of personality. To the surprise of all those who dislike the black color because they think that it symbolizes death and the dark side (of the force:), it was written that the people who wear black possess emotional soul. :)
Do not get me wrong - I am not preaching the lecture about the miraculous black color. I am not a depressed person who is searching for support and understanding! That's just my story, the way I saw the things.
MORAL: Never judge the people you know by the color they love. After all no one is sure why exactly black... Just feel... no matter what color are your favourite socks!