Instinctive Sacrifice

I ran following the crowd without looking back. I knew that I missed something behind. The most wetting canopy of air to me was but a meaningless congregation of vapours. My heart was elsewhere.

My legs were sleepwalking: my consciousness detached from my heart; I tried to bring myself to being, as we swarmed through the road, heading to a restaurant.

I failed. For about one round of the clock we were discussing, I was feeling isolated. Not isolated so much as to be left alone, but isolated thinking that I shouldn’t be around here. I should; my instinct, however, said otherwise. I was no longer myself.

The world around me was silenced as, one hand gripping a small plastic roof, another a cup of favours, I breezed through the constant sizzling sound of the atmosphere. I knew I had to be fast, I knew time was rushing against me, as the dome of favours in the cup reacted to the year-long summer of the country. And my holding hand transmitted my determination.

Alone, my heart enlightened, without realising, my reasons were relinquishing my actions totally to my instinct. The road back was a long one. Although it was with pain, it was with hope. And still holding on, the dome of favours melted gradually. But I made very sure that it was always within my control, my sight and my joy.

Should I say my heart melted with it? Step by step, I was only looking to bring it to the rightful owner, according to my instinct. Nothing stopped me. Even the loneliness that was consequential, would never get into the melting dome. But my heart did.

Reaching the right step of the place, I realised everything pass by so very swiftly, that I had actually reached my destination. My heart panting, I wondered around, in doubt, but in another dimension I found myself pressing the button. And the dimension happened to be the moment!

Out of foolishness? Out of reality?

I was again finding myself in a situation I knew not how to react. My instinct did it. My heart directed. I followed.

The melting dome was my melting heart. Again, I know not how was very wrong with myself, I just know it was instinct. But, I hope I am not wrong about you.