Heaven Above
Falling is human.
Falling is normal.
Falling happens.
Falling is what makes you aware that you’re indeed alive, and not only that. You’re living.
-
Hiroto really didn’t know what to think when he woke up that morning, bright sunshine lulling his room in a soft golden color, but inside his heart it was nothing but raining. Ceaselessly.
He woke up that morning hungover, with a pounding headache and a lurching stomach, memories a haze of flashy lights and confusing smiles he wasn’t sure were those of strangers.
He had no idea.
What to do, how to act, what to think.
-
He had fallen. He was sure of that. The throne he’d been sitting on for years on end, quietly watching life going by, quietly observing whoever happened to pass by, had finally crumbled beneath his lithe figure. Quietly. Motionless. Always there but never noticed. A lonely king, ruling an empire of even lonelier people in a land so empty and hollowed out. Far away, with no connection to anywhere, that was his empire. Floating just beneath the water’s surface, just enough to breathe, to let small rays of sunshine fall in.
A night spent drowning in sinful poison, sticky and sweet, a rich man’s paradise with colorful flash lights illuminating the smoke-hazed room just enough to let identities remain undiscovered. Another night spent smoking cigarette after cigarette until his throat felt rough and itchy, until coughing fits shook his body and yet he wouldn’t stop, another shot of crimson toxic liquid, another smoke there, taking yet another faceless person with him, into heaven.
-
The white of the room made him nothing but more dizzy.
Hiroto was sure it shouldn’t, but it did, and it confused him and so he emptied out his already more than empty stomach even more, and more, even though it should have been impossible by now.
Exhausted, although he’d just woken up from a deep but unsatisfying sleep, he lowered his head onto the toilet seat, allowing the cold porcelain to cool his feverish forhead.
He really didn’t know. He was clueless. How it happend, why it happened, what even happened. He should have been able to remember. He always remembered. Always. Never even once did he forget, even though sometimes he sincerely wished he did, but he didn’t, so why now? Why? What could have possibly happened that he couldn’t remember, felt like he should, but didn’t want to and why was it all so confusing, why couldn’t he place his finger on that specific thing haunting his hazy memories?
-
I’m fine, but he wasn’t.
I know, but he knew he wasn’t.
Foolish words spoken by even more foolish people, doing foolish things in their young foolish haze. Drugged and intoxicated, pretending to be someone they weren’t, happily fooling themselves perfectly aware they were anything but.
But you could dream, right. You could always dream, occasionally with the help of those pretty little colorful things doing weird pretty things to you. It was easy. Right.
-
“It’s really nothing.”
The text message confused him. What was all that about?
“I’m sorry for falling asleep yesterday, but I was just so tired.”
But Tora, you weren’t.
-
A lonely king. Surrounded by empty shallow people, filled with everything he desired and nothing he needed, crowding the isolatedly floating empire that was his, a small dot in an endlessly wide universe.
Golden streetlights, but it was still so dark, only weird flashing lights in front of his eyes, too loud music pounding inside his ears as he was on the verge of entering heaven for the umpteenth time that night, going where he was sure he belonged to, reigning a land full of love and perfection and blunt nothingness.
I’m dreaming, but he wasn’t, knew he wasn’t. But it was easier to say, easier to accept.
It’s just a dream, as strong hands pulled him up, even though he didn’t remember having fallen. It’s alright.
Rushed sloppy kisses, how bittersweet and addicting, just like the many shots of poison he’d taken that night, lime green, hot pink, deep crimson. All so alluring, all painting his world in every color of the rainbow. Painting his empire.
Pants, cut off breaths, it’s unbearably hot, feather light touches everywhere, big hands surprisingly soft, studded mouth ever so gentle, smooth promises resounding in his ears, danger, but he didn’t want them to stop.
-
“The stars are beautiful tonight”
And they were. Yes, Tora, they were. So beautiful his chest constricted.
“Why are you here?”
“To save the empire.”
A snort.
“You don’t know anything.”
-
I’m so lonely, and he was.
Shivering in the bitter cold reality. So very cold, the solid ground under his feet covered with invisible layers of ice as he brushed dark strands out of the stranger’s face. Wishing for nothing more than to stay like this forever.
-
Falling is human.
He had fallen.
Falling is normal.
He was alive. Miserable, but alive.
Falling happens.
And it did. It did.
It makes you aware that you’re alive. Living.
He was living. In the reality. A fallen king, consumed by loneliness.
“The empire has fallen. It’s over.”
Hiroto’s finger trembled as he typed the message, eagerly waiting for an answer.
-
I’m lonely.
-
“I know. I’m coming over.”
Falling is normal.
Falling happens.
Falling is what makes you aware that you’re indeed alive, and not only that. You’re living.
-
Hiroto really didn’t know what to think when he woke up that morning, bright sunshine lulling his room in a soft golden color, but inside his heart it was nothing but raining. Ceaselessly.
He woke up that morning hungover, with a pounding headache and a lurching stomach, memories a haze of flashy lights and confusing smiles he wasn’t sure were those of strangers.
He had no idea.
What to do, how to act, what to think.
-
He had fallen. He was sure of that. The throne he’d been sitting on for years on end, quietly watching life going by, quietly observing whoever happened to pass by, had finally crumbled beneath his lithe figure. Quietly. Motionless. Always there but never noticed. A lonely king, ruling an empire of even lonelier people in a land so empty and hollowed out. Far away, with no connection to anywhere, that was his empire. Floating just beneath the water’s surface, just enough to breathe, to let small rays of sunshine fall in.
A night spent drowning in sinful poison, sticky and sweet, a rich man’s paradise with colorful flash lights illuminating the smoke-hazed room just enough to let identities remain undiscovered. Another night spent smoking cigarette after cigarette until his throat felt rough and itchy, until coughing fits shook his body and yet he wouldn’t stop, another shot of crimson toxic liquid, another smoke there, taking yet another faceless person with him, into heaven.
-
The white of the room made him nothing but more dizzy.
Hiroto was sure it shouldn’t, but it did, and it confused him and so he emptied out his already more than empty stomach even more, and more, even though it should have been impossible by now.
Exhausted, although he’d just woken up from a deep but unsatisfying sleep, he lowered his head onto the toilet seat, allowing the cold porcelain to cool his feverish forhead.
He really didn’t know. He was clueless. How it happend, why it happened, what even happened. He should have been able to remember. He always remembered. Always. Never even once did he forget, even though sometimes he sincerely wished he did, but he didn’t, so why now? Why? What could have possibly happened that he couldn’t remember, felt like he should, but didn’t want to and why was it all so confusing, why couldn’t he place his finger on that specific thing haunting his hazy memories?
-
I’m fine, but he wasn’t.
I know, but he knew he wasn’t.
Foolish words spoken by even more foolish people, doing foolish things in their young foolish haze. Drugged and intoxicated, pretending to be someone they weren’t, happily fooling themselves perfectly aware they were anything but.
But you could dream, right. You could always dream, occasionally with the help of those pretty little colorful things doing weird pretty things to you. It was easy. Right.
-
“It’s really nothing.”
The text message confused him. What was all that about?
“I’m sorry for falling asleep yesterday, but I was just so tired.”
But Tora, you weren’t.
-
A lonely king. Surrounded by empty shallow people, filled with everything he desired and nothing he needed, crowding the isolatedly floating empire that was his, a small dot in an endlessly wide universe.
Golden streetlights, but it was still so dark, only weird flashing lights in front of his eyes, too loud music pounding inside his ears as he was on the verge of entering heaven for the umpteenth time that night, going where he was sure he belonged to, reigning a land full of love and perfection and blunt nothingness.
I’m dreaming, but he wasn’t, knew he wasn’t. But it was easier to say, easier to accept.
It’s just a dream, as strong hands pulled him up, even though he didn’t remember having fallen. It’s alright.
Rushed sloppy kisses, how bittersweet and addicting, just like the many shots of poison he’d taken that night, lime green, hot pink, deep crimson. All so alluring, all painting his world in every color of the rainbow. Painting his empire.
Pants, cut off breaths, it’s unbearably hot, feather light touches everywhere, big hands surprisingly soft, studded mouth ever so gentle, smooth promises resounding in his ears, danger, but he didn’t want them to stop.
-
“The stars are beautiful tonight”
And they were. Yes, Tora, they were. So beautiful his chest constricted.
“Why are you here?”
“To save the empire.”
A snort.
“You don’t know anything.”
-
I’m so lonely, and he was.
Shivering in the bitter cold reality. So very cold, the solid ground under his feet covered with invisible layers of ice as he brushed dark strands out of the stranger’s face. Wishing for nothing more than to stay like this forever.
-
Falling is human.
He had fallen.
Falling is normal.
He was alive. Miserable, but alive.
Falling happens.
And it did. It did.
It makes you aware that you’re alive. Living.
He was living. In the reality. A fallen king, consumed by loneliness.
“The empire has fallen. It’s over.”
Hiroto’s finger trembled as he typed the message, eagerly waiting for an answer.
-
I’m lonely.
-
“I know. I’m coming over.”