Stories and News No. 857
Today is the World Sleep Day...
I have a sleep.
Yes, I might start as well as the speech of the famous giver of visions, who left the stage too soon and with great noise, like the greatest of the past.
Visions, or dreams, no sleep.
Well, I do not aspire to that. To rest with a blank screen is enough for me.
Just that, by the way.
To rest.
My name is Amir and I am tired of dying. When does life begin? Can you tell me more? Because, here, we do not know anything. We are first lower pages of equally negligible books, strictly relegated to forgotten shelves.
There, where the unlabeled stories of the world live. Those that have no moral, otherwise I dare you to inform the protagonists that all that suffering has a kind of meaning.
They have only told me go ahead, you start, it is your turn.
So I went on stage, like everyone else.
And you know what? If I had known that all this would have happened, I would have remade the same steps.
I know that for many of you it is difficult to understand. If not, the gap between us would be the least of the problems.
The fact is that we do not look at the moon. Not even the tiniest bit of luck precipitating for once on the right side of the world.
Of course, if that were to happen we all would run on the light that miraculously changes destination.
But trust me on my word, victory is not an obsession for me.
Because I have a sleep.
I have a dissatisfied sleep that was born with me, not long ago.
It is where I am going.
Your country is just a window to cross quickly and possibly without too many injuries as a gift.
The promised land, the perfect day, are the place and the moment when I will stop.
Because the body will trust the new world.
The breathing will slow down just enough to reassure the heart.
The latter will find the best location in the chest and limbs will recline on the friendly ground.
So it will be up to them to close the curtain, the eyes.
They will mourn, probably.
The lips will smile, this is a lot, not a little, and it is more than sure.
And as two soft blankets, my eyelids finally will give the right away to my soul.
I will sleep peacefully, there.
And maybe.
I will also hope.
To be, after all that I have faced.
Still alive…
Read more stories of immigrants
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News:
Today is the World Sleep Day...
I have a sleep.Yes, I might start as well as the speech of the famous giver of visions, who left the stage too soon and with great noise, like the greatest of the past.
Visions, or dreams, no sleep.
Well, I do not aspire to that. To rest with a blank screen is enough for me.
Just that, by the way.
To rest.
My name is Amir and I am tired of dying. When does life begin? Can you tell me more? Because, here, we do not know anything. We are first lower pages of equally negligible books, strictly relegated to forgotten shelves.
There, where the unlabeled stories of the world live. Those that have no moral, otherwise I dare you to inform the protagonists that all that suffering has a kind of meaning.
They have only told me go ahead, you start, it is your turn.
So I went on stage, like everyone else.
And you know what? If I had known that all this would have happened, I would have remade the same steps.
I know that for many of you it is difficult to understand. If not, the gap between us would be the least of the problems.
The fact is that we do not look at the moon. Not even the tiniest bit of luck precipitating for once on the right side of the world.
Of course, if that were to happen we all would run on the light that miraculously changes destination.
But trust me on my word, victory is not an obsession for me.
Because I have a sleep.
I have a dissatisfied sleep that was born with me, not long ago.
It is where I am going.
Your country is just a window to cross quickly and possibly without too many injuries as a gift.
The promised land, the perfect day, are the place and the moment when I will stop.
Because the body will trust the new world.
The breathing will slow down just enough to reassure the heart.
The latter will find the best location in the chest and limbs will recline on the friendly ground.
So it will be up to them to close the curtain, the eyes.
They will mourn, probably.
The lips will smile, this is a lot, not a little, and it is more than sure.
And as two soft blankets, my eyelids finally will give the right away to my soul.
I will sleep peacefully, there.
And maybe.
I will also hope.
To be, after all that I have faced.
Still alive…
Read more stories of immigrants
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News: