Happiness – Flash Fiction

– Are you happy?

– Happy? What does that even mean? Is it when you wake up with a smile on your face; or when you look at the world like it’s full of pink elephants?

– I guess happiness is different for everyone. But how do you feel?

– I feel empty. I am not miserable but I would not say I am happy. Definitely drama-free and stress-free which is the most important thing since I moved to London.

– Okay, what would make you happy?

– I don’t know. Before, even the smell of morning coffee made me feel good. It made me feel alive. Now, I don’t know no more.

– Well, maybe you need to go out there and seek some happiness. Look for it in different places and in different people. You need to feel that spark in you again. The one that makes you jump high and dance when you hear a rhythmic song. The spark that makes you look forward and move forward. The one that makes you dream and desire more.

– Well, what if I don’t? Anyway, I think happiness is over-rated.

 

Image was found here.

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Addiction – Flash Fiction

How did I end up on this couch, surrounded by needles? Spoonful of pleasure and darkness that comes along with it. Sobriety is not something I want to hang onto. It is who I am. That darkness gets louder and louder. The whispering grows and rises within. The desire needs to be fed up.

Fight the pressure, fight who you are. Eventually, the need will become stronger than you. Eventually, the desire will burn your insides and will scream for more.

Rich daddy never cared for me and to show him I will not submit to his orders I start causing trouble. I knew he is not going to hold my hand when I was in pain but when I was on heroin he was there. Standing in front of me, helplessly watching me ruin my life.

Glen never admitted what was actually going on. He knew he had to get help. His mom never reached for help and she died. Is that what he wanted for himself too? To burn to ashes and no one except him would be able to help him. No other help than to have will, to be strong enough to say ‘STOP, no more’.

 

Image was found here.

I know that I don’t know – Poem

You see, he said, I know

you are a beautiful flower.

And sometimes I hold you so tight

almost crushing you.

And sometimes I don’t feed you with days

almost starving you to death.

Don’t ask me why. I don’t know myself.

Am I a fool not to keep you safe?

Or am I naive thinking you will always be around?

I never know what the right answer is.

But I know that I don’t know.

 

Image was found here.

Win or Lose?

In some days we lose but we don’t think of the things we have gained. And in the days we win, we don’t think of what we are losing.

There will always be a day when we realise some of those things but unfortunately, sometimes it is too late.

However, some of us are lucky enough to understand the order of how the world works. We appreciate the moment and we love strongly, deeply and irrationally. At the same time, we can hurt as much but the pain is irreversible. 

Image was found here.

Wordsmith – Poem

The art of words

Is what makes your blood boil,

your heart pumps faster

and your face trembles.

 

The beauty of words

Is a struggle of thoughts.

To control them

And put them in order.

 

To show the reader

Your soul

And trust that

They will not just ignore it.

 

To make an art of words

Is a difficult task.

To give all you’ve written

For someone else to judge.

 

Image was found here.

Unrecognised – Poem

I look in the mirror

Hollow eyes and sucked cheeks

What I see is not what I am

When did I become what I am?

What is this horrific image?

My hand reaches to touch that bony face

Saddened of its coldness

Beautiful they call this image

Beautiful is what they see

But come and knock on my door

Fit in those filthy clothes I wear

Put on those worn shoes

See how far I’ve walked

I’ve seen deserts, forests, and empty mansions

I’ve seen dried seas and frozen oceans

I’ve seen deserted cities, burned forests, and ruined mansions.

 

Image was found here.

Office prisoner – Poem

My back aches

Sitting all day on this metal chair.

People in this office

Don’t know how to be comfortable.

How can I work

From nine to five

Sitting on this chair?

 

Grey walls

And big screens

Make me feel

A prisoner.

People in this office

Work like robots

From nine to five

Sitting in this cage.

 

The only warmness

In the room

Is my smile.

Smiling at the screen

While sitting

On this metal chair

Between those grey walls.