you know what's the worst?
when the mother dies in front of your eyes but then keeps breathing.
there is no worse death, i tell you. and beside that, nothing is harder than maintaining a relationship with a corpse. it's something, that everybody keeps secret, because lucky we, lucky us to have the human, that wanted to be not be anymore, right? right, that's why we stay silent... otherwise we would need to identify the villain. i grieve, my friend, i grieve so badly, because i have lost my mother already way before i found and lost the father. i am her baby, that is what i think, i could have never been the villain. instead, i knew him. i warned her about the villain but she didn't had her eyes, not anymore.
it alarmed me, but i was occupied doing stupid baby things.
the woman, which is there now, let's not talk about it.
the evil has sent this lopsided face, an empty frame, which is so dripping of guilt as well.
she looks like her, of course, there is no doubt about that. but she can say just one sentence, and that she keeps repeating "you should have been a hairdresser" and it's unnecessary to outline, what this is supposed to mean. well, but whatever, a corpse doesn't want to be quoted, so instead, i am depressed, it's the state of grieving im in, and i tell you, i thought i would be over it already, but no... no, instead it's even worse, sometimes i step back, back to bargaining, then bargain bargain, oh sweet nothing, there isn't anything to win... and me coming with all I have [stupid].
the seller isn't even listening, what i want is invisible, i am invisible.
the mother died in the year 2013 but today i have been speaking with her, she saying, repeating "you should not become a doctor" and it's logic, in the year of her death it might was different, she is a believer, of course, because she is an angel. i do not deal good with it. i cry a lot recently, even i don't want to because it is ridiculous, she won't hear me, she won't see me, and if she saw, she just changed the direction of looking.
she is an angel.
i bargained her to be one.
to keep myself protected i remember her before that time, when i myself have been maybe 10 or something, there she was a living angle, you understand? i wasn't different from other children, she was my first love, i wanted to be like her when i was grown up, but then she just ... you know - kept living, and by that she put me to life long purgatory. i can not want to be like her, and also, she never left, so I can not not want to be with her; the silhouette is inhabited, i don't want to  replicate it, that is what i am thinking. purgatory is the playground's graveyard. today i knew it when i opened my eyes. i could see it.
this morning i thought, whenever the angel is calling, i know it is a bad sign, and yet, i am open for it, it's like honey, i can't resist. i need to grab some. it's the ever repeating game, until one day the corpse gets stiff.