Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • There are days we see that life is a tangled wool ball in our emotions. What we do does not match to what we want; what we want, lurks in the background of the deep dark soul. Even if we do not have access there, sometimes...

    The other day I was telling you that we live in a shallow well of pain. Surrounded by blue walls, navy blue, which darkens everything it touches. Prison. Darkness. Empty. You spy the exit, but prefer not to pass the entrance. You are afraid to move, see the walls closing in, cracking, about to fall. You can run, but you do not: you are motionless, inert, but not unfamiliar: you still can observe and think. Sooner or later, however, it will be time to wake up: something will push you out. You will even bring down the walls. There will be light around. Freedom. You will be a little scared, it is normal. But the blue will be far beyond the horizon. I trust.

    "All life stories are the same." - I think to myself. Do not get tired: the comes and goes of feelings, the treadmill that never stops spinning, the disenchantment, the addition and subtraction of desires, the routine, the eventual malaise, in the absence, on the trail, in solitude, in that line that separates us from fetching a complement in the other to complementing ourselves alone, everything happens in the same way to everyone.

    In the end, nobody can answer the persistent question: "Has it been worth much delivery, resignation, such intensity?". Nobody will ever know or take the risk to guess.


    And so it is...
    There are many nights.
    The one outside. Dangerous, curious, sparkling.
    Another that entangles itself, restless, dark, shadowed.
    There is no wind - only flashlights and cold air.
    And there is the one in here. Silent, empty, totally lonely.


    The girl rested - or frazzled (it is hard to tell). She disappeared through the dark night. Maybe she had lost the dream, desire, hope, or just understood that life is this: love, lose, start again, ever again. In another way, but falling into the same trap. I spent hours observing her and whispering thoughts silently. Do not suffer anymore, because in the end, it is you and you with days and nights as witnesses and some silent spectators.

    The picture was taken days ago during a walk around my neighborhood. It shows exactly how days and nights have been in my city in the past two months. Unbearably dry. =(
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.