I Am Not Coming Home

  I can't tell if I am fed up with this or bored. I can't tell if this is stability or numbness to chaotic mess. I can't tell if this is a turning point or one of those scenes which ends with "oh, just kidding!" The only thing I can tell and ensure: I am not coming home. At least not tonight.

  Is it a farewell or a teenage version of rebellion? Don't know either. I will never know anything. Maybe why I am leaving the place is about how random I am. Maybe cause I am fond of new waves showering my interests. You take advantage of this and manipulate me. You invite me in and tell me "I will teach you something new." I get in and I find myself surrounded by dark walls with no windows nor even the door I got through, is there. You always trick me! I don't know how I get rescued every time, and I don't know how I can realize this now.

  I am not coming home for what you want me to be. You're claiming that you're helping me out, but you're actually keeping me out of sight. You told me I've got the gift. I've got the talent. I have got it all. Funny you never spoke about how I can water those gifts of mine, so we both can harvest their fruits.

  I am not coming home ever again. I know I will obligatorily return one day. Until this day comes, I will keep my distance away from you. I'll do my best; so when I return, I will be satisfied and ready for your confrontation. So when I return, I will give you all the reasons why I didn't stay when I actually had the choice to leave.

   I will work and love what I am doing. I will see what you told me about the outside world, so when I return, I'll narrate to you how I got over all the obstacles. I will search and feed myself with every spectacular fact about this world for my hungry soul - to quit asking for more, to reach modesty and humbleness. I will tell you I got it all in hand and taught everyone else what good deeds are. I will come back home obligatorily, but naked. You will laugh at me saying "you should have laid here till your day comes when you'd be officially my resident," then I would surprise you with to whom I gave my all. That I gave all I could win to another who is in need. That I collected all the honors which would make your dark walls decorated with cheerful neon lights instead.

  Remember when you said stay here and enjoy my friends' mourns by your door? Remember when you told me to stay in here and you would give me bitter coldness, cause warmth is charges of jealousy radiating nothing more? Well, I will come back and tell you I was the source of warmth, not because of jealousy, but because I was source of joy and hope. I will tell you I went to my friends and told them never mourn over a friend; let's pick him up and oblige him to join our journey towards success. Towards something worth narrating when the air would be carrying our ashes.

  I am telling you. I am not coming home. Even the name on you, isn't mine. It belongs to a dear one to me though. But to pay respect to that person I love – whose place is ruled by you - I tell you: when my soul is stolen by fate and a full stop is written in my biography, it's the only day I will come back and sleep endlessly. Mr. Grave, God gave me a life whose end will be at your place. Now I've a spirit. A breath. A beating heart. So, you're not my place. I can't deny how grateful I am for giving shelter to my sadness. It grew mature, but eventually it taught me something I can't export. It's a part of me and it's not dead. But from time to time I have to show my sadness that it has friends out there. The same state, different story, but the same rush of feelings. Mr. Grave, I will come. It's obligatory for every living organism to be your guest. I just pray when I arrive, I arrive in a modest fashion. Naked as I was brought to this life, bragging "everything I owned in life, I gave it away to another. My legacy would be words and inspiration." You will ask me "where are the things life has given you?" I will tell you proudly that I am an honest pal who gives things to its original owner. We'll laugh and hug till you will be forced to let me go to meet the greatest trials of all. But for now, I am not coming home. Please, let your lawyers, depression and hopelessness, leave me alone. I am not coming home.