Sankt Marx Friedhof

Sankt Marx Friedhof

Blink.

And a flash of hues, an explosion of passion, and multitudes of grief and sadness will pass you by.

And that is all he was.

And that is all you can ever hope to be.

And yet, millions have and will flock to this very spot

And you will try to gather the pieces of your shattered dreams

And you will try to pry open an eternally shut door

And you will try to extract meaning from a life that had minimal pertinence to yours.

And the cold, gray dust will unhinge your heart

And cerulean, olive, magenta, lavender, scarlet, indigo and violet will come gushing out.

And what are we really? An insignificant fly, scrounging for dinner, or the last ash left in the stone fireplace, cold and overdue.

And you will end up here one day, maybe tomorrow, maybe in 20 years.

And you refuse it!

And you pound your fists on the earth

And you scream until your voice cracks

And you understand that you can’t fool yourself any longer.

And you know, however consciously, that the less you accept your fate, the darker, the scarier this place becomes.

And you try your hardest not to blink.

And why him?

And you understand that he was a wrecked, beautiful ship that was ready to sink.

And a smile starts to peak out from behind your lips, ever so slightly.

And you comprehend that you're only human, that is all what the world is asking for.

And doubt creeps back, slowly.

And you wonder, what did he do?

And there is no answer.

And we all hope to have people remember our past greatness.

And we all hope that someone will commemorate it with a small flower bed, a half built column, a devastated angel, a few water logged candles, and a whole lot of tears.

And you will start to cry, perhaps out of happiness, for you realized that you have blinked.