magic incense?
karlina veras
I’m failing, everyday, every minute to fulfill my soul’s calling. I’m rotting, fading away from all existence. I am helpless... So I cry, but my tears are dry.
I’m rotting, I can tell because I smell; and not the way a nice dinner smells; I’m talking the way a decaying body smells. I don’t get it, I’m supposed to be alive. Hold on? Could it be my heart? I’ve lost faith, I’m lost. So I run, all over town, looking for a miracle, not sure what, or why for that matter. I know I smell, but I’m getting used to it. And what was once disgusting is becoming part of me. I can’t differentiate it anymore. But reality hits me when I notice people in the street looking at me in disgust, covering their noses and turning around... away from me.
I am rotting from inside. It’s obvious now. I feel helpless. So I keep on running to ease my troubled mind; my aging soul.
Until suddenly, I stop as I see from the near future a man with a white beard, in a purple robe, with some kind of Bronze container releasing an addictive yet pleasing aroma. So powerful, it seems to hide my smell. I am in heaven, for just one second I can’t smell myself.
I am happy. But as he passes by me, it’s gone. I’m in agony once again. I follow him. I need to. It’s got me.
I grab him and ask him with despair: “What is that? Will it heal my Soul?”
With the most peaceful voice I’ve ever heard and with a grin on his face he says: “It won’t heal you, but at least it will make you forget about it all for a while. It’s poppers. Go on honey, take a drag.”
And as I did, I faded into oblivion, this time, with a light in my eyes.
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