Stick People

Stick woman stands in the pink room. In her stick face, a smile that is not stick at all. And pumping through her stick body, a heart, that is not stick at all.

Stick woman sits, waiting. In her stick body without veins, her bloody flows fast in excitement. What is she waiting for?

She is waiting for stick man.

Stick man enters the room. For a moment, there is a smile on his face that is not stick at all. And a heart pumping out of his stick body, that is not stick at all either.

Stick woman stands up and her not-stick heart pumps so fast it seems it's gonna jump out of her stick body. She walks towards stick man, with her smile and her heart.

But all of a sudden, the pink room starts to change. The pink walls start to bleed and soon the pink room is all red. Each step she takes towards stick man, the walls change the color, getting darker and darker.

She feels her heart hurting and she worries about stick man. And she tries to run to him. And as she runs, his smile starts to change into wood. It woodens and woodens and woodens. And so does his heart.

When she finally gets to him, the walls bleed black. And it's all dark. And stick man's smile is hard wood. And so is his heart.

Stick woman cries and takes her heart (that is still a heart) in her hands and gives it to stick man.

And stick man, with his wooden smile, takes her heart in his wooden hands and eats it.

For Matt

If there was a time in her life in which she wished time would fly and, at the same time, stop, this time would be now.
Her heart is a crowd of happy people, going by, forgiving, smiling, greeting each other. Just like in the song. No sadness was too sad.
What place was there in which she was? Everybody should go there one day. It's her hidden place. But she doesn't want it hidden anymore. She has opened a small door to it. So small that there is room for just one to get in there. Then the door closes. The ones who are inside can get out and breathe a little bit of the world. The ones outside cannot get in, and have no clue of this hidden world that is behind their eyes. Good for her. Good for the one that was able to see through the veils and found the opening to this hidden world.
In this hidden place time was a matter of no matter. Here was now and now was forever. This state of happiness would prolongue itself in an eternal circle, as perfect as it is. The eternity of a second. The non-limits of our times. The beauty of being able to see beyond your eyes, beyond your physical limits. These are the little openings to many, many hidden worlds, like hers, for those who are able to see them. The unlimitedness of our times opens doors to love, and love always finds its way, through whatever it is in its way. Love is fluid and spreads like the air. Love has no time. For it, now is the eternityness of the moment, unsustainable for some, fulfilling for others. For her, it was all. It was the unsustainable happiness that doesn't go way, the unsustainable agony of waiting for the next moment, the unsustainable sweetness that even causes hurt to the heart. That unsustainable happiness that fullfill your bodies and souls and that is what makes it wonderful to be a human. That feeling that shows our imperfection with such a tenderness that even a god would be willing to be human to be able to feel it.

It became all in a fraction of second. Or was it an endless time? Who are to define it?
In a moment, her hidden place was her only and one peace. In another moment, she wasn't alone there anymore. She had left an open door for it, and that open door wasn't left unseen. But it could be seen only by special eyes, only eyes that were meant to see that opening.

And so she was, not one anymore, but two. Time, such an inconstancy and a matter of perception, took the dimensions of an eternity and soon became long. The apart was insanely long and the together, eternal. Time, as waves when getting to the shore, dissolves itself in the bodies, dancing to their own music, in their own rhythm.

Einstein said time was relative. And so she perceived it.

The world, suddenly, was moving in different ways, rhythms and colors. It was more beautiful and full of life. There was this subtle music in the air. Blue butterflies would be flying around, no matter the rain, the cold, the sun, the wind.

She had stars, and they talked to her. They were quiet now. They were living her happiness with her. They had written it all. Maktub. She believed in it. Maktub. It was all there, all the time. And time works in its own ways. And time was bigger and unlimited. Relative.

Suddenly, she turned into music. There was only the stars, the moon, the music - her - as an indelible dust of love, spread in the air, touching that one's faces, the one that was able to get into her hidden place and made her music, and dust, and love. Maktub.