A Poem on Addiction: Paint Thinner

A Poem on Addiction: Paint Thinner Maïa Fukuyama

My heart murmurs with the hum of cicadas

I’m on fire the way they made us

I spin in circles around and around again Huff down the air as the screams begin I’m unstoppable as I ride this night bus My fingertips graze along stars as my eyes set upon mars

I’m flying above, walking along the cusp The cracks upon the pavement fall from beneath The descent of chemicals calls from Hell’s gates I am nothing, I am forced to wait

“I’ve come close so many times” I said Please let there be someone watching from overhead Fingertips ripping off my skin to bare a soul empty with cracks in its foundation Morals gone; values withdrawn

My words act as weapons, betraying my truth They come at a speed unknown and with the spite of youth None to hold me in this time All to kick me, my body warping without a spine

Grasping at memories, clutching on your words The best damn things I’ve ever heard They dance around my eyes to show a world A world my body used to know

A world of truth, where morals ruled actions A world of love where values formed passions A world of reason where justice was served And all fell victim to the lonely word Addiction. Breathe in, breathe out Hear my rasp hear my doubt This is the holy comedown It’s the spire they built us We slide down it “You have to stay in focus” I heard it over and over in my head Yet somehow in my vision the words blurred and bled

Close your eyes and feel your truth The feeling of a burning youth I never bore, I never tire It’s the way they made us I’m on fire.

More than just an illusion. (Part 1) Nataliya Nazarova

Some of you will probably think that this story is complete nonsense, while others will find that it is something inspiring – there is no accounting for taste. In any case, I hope that those who will read the four parts of the story will understand the hidden message of the events that I will describe… I wish you all a pleasant reading.

Iris was going down the stairs of a music store; she liked to go there and just watch the pianos. The girl knew that she couldn’t afford such an expensive instrument. She went just to enjoy the atmosphere and imagine a performance of famous composers: Debussy, Bach, Mozart. She was a girl full of dreams and ambitions, often absorbed in her own thoughts. Iris’s mind was traveling in time while she was standing in the middle of the store. Every Friday, she comes to this place, and this day was no exception. This time, she decided to buy a collection of notes on her salary; her mood was upbeat, so she decided to go to see a friend.

Although it was November, the weather was very warm, as though spring had come again. The girl went to the subway and stood near a phone booth. She was searching for her Opus in her purse when, suddenly, the phone rang. Iris abruptly turned around, but no one paid attention to the sound. The girl was surprised; she thought that she might start hallucinating because of sleepless nights. The phone kept ringing persistently. A piercing sound was sounding in her ears. Briiiing. Briiing. She picked up the phone.

“Hello, please take off your lenses,” a soft man's voice said. Her mouth went dry; she did not even know what to say. She was standing there, speechless. Iris never knows what to do in those situations and she hates herself for that.

The voice kept saying: “Don't be afraid, take off the lenses and look around yourself, then put them on your eyes again.” She was groping for words.

She began to get tired of this meaningless conversation, and, naturally, she hung up.

Iris went out of the phone booth and continued to look for her Opus, but, at the bottom of her bag, she found only her library card and a pack of gum.

“Is it your Opus?” Someone asked behind her. It sounded like a familiar voice. She turned around and saw a man. He was wearing wide pants and a white long jacket with a hood. His hood was so big that it was hiding his face. The girl immediately noticed his eyes. They were unusual, as each eye had two small pupils. In addition, one eye was green and the other was blue. She was petrified and stood still. There was something unearthly about this stranger.

“My, thank you. Where did you find it?” she asked.

“You dropped it at the entrance. I was the one who called you,” he said.

“Don't be afraid I won't hurt you,” he continued, “I finally managed to find you. You must be 17 already?”

“Who are you?” whispered Iris. There was an edge to her voice.

“I am your closest person on this Earth.”

The man was saying very odd things; she wanted to leave, but something was holding her back, her curiosity and desire to get into some adventure.

“Please listen to me, you will understand everything, just do what I ask. Take off your lenses.”