"I'm silently sitting on the swing.I am simply sitting.I sigh and take a breathe.I close my eyes.I am slowly getting up and I am softly placing the doll on the swing.I walk towards a rose bush.I look at it and silently take one single dark red rose.Everything happens so slow lately.I am doing everything like I am in a slow motion movie.Some kind of a black and white old movie.But I am not any Marylin Monroe or the well known Charles Chaplin.No, I am simply me.And it is pretty enough.I look at the rose I took.I turn it all around in front of my face and watch it carefully.I play it in my ice hands.Ah.I look at my right hand and see a little warm blood drop.No pain.I smile.I look at the rose.It looks old, dark, dusty and heavy.It carries a lot of rain dust.I close the rose in my fist.I close my eyes.A small clear tear cleanse my eye leashes.I can feel the warmness that has been caught in my fist.Dirty blood drops fall from it.I open my hand and give the little rose a soft kiss.You suffered so much just to become this beautiful.I go back near the swing.Little shiny rose, I must say I am sorry.This time I really am guilty and I am going to pay for this.It looks like our story wasn't meant to be.Our story simply ended before it would even begin.This is how it has to be, maybe.It is not too late yet.Maybe we will have another chance someday.I smile and softly place my bloody dark friend on the swing, right near the doll.Right now it is the end, but tomorrow we will start from the begining again.We will try over and over again. We will do it, darling.We will.."
"I've got a headache.It is all I am capable to say.It's painfull, but somehow I enjoy it, just because I know it could have been worse.Maybe it's not the best thought, but it makes me see things totally different.It makes me know I am not the last one.I will never be.Nobody is.I am walking.I'm passing by an old house, all covered of dark green ivy.It's sad to see this city so silent, so dead.I am walking on the dark street, folowing my shadow.I am going into a garden.I see some old roses visible unkempt. I'm walking on the too-much-grown grass.All around I see cigarettes butts on the ground.I look forward and realise there is an old dusty swing in front of my eyes.I slowly walk towards it.I touch it with a hand and take a little dust on my dirty fingers.I sit.It is just like in my childhood.So pure and kind.So beautiful and .. wasted.I sigh.I am slowly pushing myself in front and back in the swing.It creaks.I'm slowly looking forward, in my left and in my right side.My eyes are lazyly following my comands and try to see everything all around.They are too tired.Near me, on the left side, there is a doll.I watch it straight.I am confused.Should I?Do I have the right to?I'm leaning down and carefully take it.I am softly placing it in my lap.I used to have a doll too.I used to play and sing along all day long.I used to .. Hmm..I take a moment for me.To think.I used to do many things.I am now just silently looking at the dusty dirty beautiful doll.I begin playing on the swing again.I watch the sky.It is cloudy.It is dark.But it does not rain anymore.Not on this street, not today.Maybe tomorrow, who knows? But for now it is all silence and peace.But this peace comes along with that silent, deadly fuss."