Vanilla Sky

I don’t remember how it happened. I just found myself lying on the coach surrounded by soft colours and heart-beating music. I couldn’t say a word. I was completely overwhelmed by the shapes, the sounds, the smells and the colours. An atheist might feel the same when enters a church and despite all his religious scepticism, he is still impressed by the interior decoration so much that starts to have doubts about the non-existence of God.

The door of your room is an entrance to another world I have never seen before. Who enters there once, will never be the same again – this is how I imagine things. Like an earthly heaven or a heavenly hell. There is not much difference anyway, as earth is a place where angels are dating devils in secret.

When I enter your room, I leave everything behind. I only bring my heart, I put it on your table – it’s messy (cigarettes, empty bottles, ashes – all the ruins of yesterday’s party) and I hope there won’t be a sudden move that sweaps it under the coach. I don’t pay much attention to it, though. I’m enjoying the privileged moments when I don’t have to care about it and I can let myself floating somewhere between worlds – between your world and mine - in complete carelessness.

And each time I have to leave this sacred place, the place of your daily rituals, I’m taking my re-filled heart from the table, and I’m praising all the angels and devils on earth for the seconds I spent with you. I don’t know much more. I only know that if I suddenly find myself on your coach again, I will take it as another miracle. And my heart starts to believe again.