Voices in my Head
"Do you hear voices?", a nurse in Jankomir asked me some twenty years ago.
"Didn't you just ask me something?", I answered.
I hear voices. And because I forgot more languages than most of you ever spoke I usually hear what I choose to hear and believe. On a good day. On a bad day I'm just watching who's following me.
I'm too good not to be followed, you see?
Too hear "voices", makes me feel good, it makes me feel important. Maria never understood that, she couldn't. At the time being we were both trying very hard to find our paths back to Sanity.
"You're making fun of my illness", she shouted at me once, at her first Explosion with me. I never did it again. I chose to be depressed, I chose she was the only reason to get out of the bed, or stay in it if she was with me.
The sun still rises and sinks with her, for me.
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