Dying

You know what I would die for tonight?

A talk.

So that I can free all my confinements, and that I won't be shy. So that I can be funny, and amusing, and finally someone will see me that I am both. That I can take a chance with no guarantees. That I can speak my heart through my mouth and don't piss off anyone in the process.

A talk.

Sometimes, the simplest things in life can be maddening. Being not able to talk using all the workable liberties is maddening. When was the last time I told someone that world peace emanates from the inner thoughts of individual people? When was the last time I told someone that the weather outside was as nice as a leisurely walk? When was the last time I asked someone if he is as nice as what other people thinks he is?

This is the point where I don't know to whom my thoughts are for any longer. Japan doesn’t trust Russia, one lecturer in my university said. Disentanglement is sticky especially if it is about one mistrust after another. Nobody takes chances anymore. Everyone but me is in their comfort zone.

This is the point where I miss the old times. Democracy is a mad dog but sweet nonetheless. Sunshine in the tropics can open people’s mouth. Winter makes cold hearts. Sometimes, misunderstanding is not about differences in cultural climes. This talk that I am writing about is not at all about language. I want to be understood as plainly as possible because I’m sure that the goodness of my core will come through. A talk. So that people can see the best parts in me.

You know what I would die for tonight?

A talk--- that’s all that I am.