Fiction: The Voyager II


I’ve been floating for years only with the sound of my own voice. It shouts inside my head like in a long hall: “Is there anybody out there?” – The sound travels afar and it fades. Where am I? The smells, the faces, they are gone. My memory leaked into space, year by year, leaving an invisible trace. The route back is lost.

My solution was always to leave. Blame the world. Blame society. Too much fear, too much anger and hate. I was taught to be good, to feel empathy. What do you need? Can I help you? Take a piece of me and fill your hole. Piece by piece… I was scattered, more air than man. More nothing. So, I left, trying to find somewhere where my nothing existence became something, or at least, somewhere it didn’t need to be anything to be respected and loved. I’ve found that such place does not exist. Without fear there is no love. Space is beautiful, but it is just space. A place where things just pass by, each on their own journey, like me, but I’ve lost the momentum.

Existence has many deceptions, many grasping arms, many energy sucking creatures, oblivious of you, having nothing more than despise. So, I ran, the spontaneous euphoria, brief, a large empty curtain, promising eternity, with nothing more than emptiness behind. I was fooled, because I wanted to stop being a fool. What happens now?

We are all but drifters through a thousand seas, since a million years from a billion souls… It is when we stop struggling against ourselves that we truly see the truth, when we lay back and look up, letting the waves of our love take us where we need to be, when the whole world turns into a painting of motion beauty and stops being a still image on our memory. When all that we miss comes back to life in front of our eyes to kiss us one last time before vanishing forever, on that moment we whisper to ourselves: “Take me with you”.

And so I stop. Wherever I am now, that’s where I will make my stand. I will create in this world and I never found on it.

My journey begins, again.


Read here Part I of Voyager 


2 Comments Add yours

  1. janetawel says:

    Yes — “take a piece of me and fill your holes”. Visceral and immediate connection to that phrase.

    1. literaapoetry says:

      We tend to give too much of ourselves. Us, who still believe in a better world.

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