Monthly Archives: March 2012

chronicle of a dead pigeon

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it’s been on the roof of the building facing my kitchen window for over a week. it’s a dead pigeon. when I first saw it I was kind of grossed out. I don’t like dead animals but then, who does? I’ve been walking back and forth from my room to the kitchen, aimless, just waiting for the little corpse to change position. I don’t leave my apartment much lately. mainly because I don’t feel like it. scrolling down on the facebook page and staring at the pigeon have been my main activities. after a couple of days from when i first saw it, it moved a few meters on the right. and there where white puffy feathers that looked like snowflakes everywhere. a part of me found it romantic. I’ve been thinking about this guy lately. somebody I couldn’t have. i actually thought he was out of my mind, gone for good, but he was only hidden somewhere in the back of my head. I wondered how long it would take for the dead pigeon to disappear. nobody is going to remove it from the roof and it could take a couple of months before it rots away. but the wind may do the job earlier. little parts of it though, little bones, will probably resist for a while, I thought. even in a few years, little traces of its presence may still be noticed, if you look carefully. the same way somebody who really mattered never actually leaves. even if what’s left is nothing but an annoying reminder of the days you spent trying to get him out of your head. trying to feel better without being actually sick. hoping that a painkiller could resolve the problem or pressing a button would automatically erase the thought of him.

I finally went out for a run the other day and realized I didn’t pay any attention to the pigeon for almost 24 hours and rushed back home. when I saw it, the pigeon looked as if it had been turned inside out. I could only tell it was a pigeon because I knew, otherwise it would’ve been an unidentified bird. I see the guy  and realize how I’ve never been able to figure him out. I know, if I’ve been there and felt that way, there must be a reason. but right now I’m just observing a dead animal. I might as well go out and wait for the wind to do the job.

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ghost, I don’t know you anymore

it’s easy. you wake up and it’s a sunny day just like any other sunny day. you’re going to do the same things you did yesterday. more or less. wake up. make coffee. put your jeans on. a striped jumper. after all, it is a sunny day. it’s supposed to be a good thing. some people think it’s a reason to be positive. and it is. then you walk out the door and go to the tube station. you’re on a platform waiting for your train. nothing new, so far. then you hear a voice that says ‘Hey’. there. there it is. your ghost. unfortunately, you recognize him straight away. it would have been so much easier if it took you a while. but a ghost, a good ghost, is always there. ready to come out. to pop up. right. there. now, you haven’t seen this person in years. this person who came out of your life without even saying goodbye. this person you shared moments with. moments that defined who you are. you say ‘hi’ back to him. you take the train with him. you got four stops. four stops for seven years. now this person, of course, feels the need to apologize to you. ‘it was an impossible situation’, ‘i had to cut everyone off’, ‘anyone related to that part of my life’. you’re actually quiet shocked right now. but you don’t even realize it. you talk about what you’re doing. what happened to your mutual friends. what happened right after the last time you saw each other. you get off the train. you’re out of the station. the sun is still out. the sky is blue. it’s perfect. now your ghost is embarrassed because he’s not in the position to keep in touch. you’re still banned from his life. but at this stage you got that figured out. and it’s actually fine. you say, ‘I’ll wait for the next time I’ll meet you on the street’. and smile. this could be tomorrow. the next year. or never. but it doesn’t make any difference, anymore. you’re on your way now. you left your ghost behind you. for a moment you see yourself and your ghost in a car seven years ago. your ghost has passed out. the syringe still in his arm. then you’re back and the image has vanished. all you think about is the sun and the way you’re walking, really. you realize you don’t know this person anymore. he is not part of your life. hasn’t been for ages. he is not  even a ghost anymore.

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