Twins

I stand looking into the deep blue azure sky with the sun blazing and reflecting off of me and twinkling and blinding and heating, and I gaze at my not so distant twin and see the same. Both of us so proud and tall in the early morning sun that is warming us both from a long night before. And down below such an amount of movement and sound just like on so many days.

And knowing of the good and the bad that I exist for as it spins, and moves and churns all around me. At times so tired of it all. At times so in need of change. At times so much wanting not to be part of it. And always the bad remaining uppermost. Why oh why do they have to do bad?
Now busier and noisier and dirtier and with rising smells and odours and sounds that only serve to disillusion more as I wonder how long? How long must this incessant repetition go on for? Not just for me but also my own identical twin. Identical in virtually every detail. And with what some would say was perfection that my own father my own mother my creators and the creators of my replica were so very, very proud of. And for some reason that neither of us understood so many who lived near us were so proud of. Why?

The sun is warming me more. Warming me throughout in spite of efforts at cooling. In spite of the attempts of cooling breezes I was warming. And as I warmed, I hurt more. Never able to reconcile for what I was there for and for what I could have been. And with a deep caring too for my other and hoping that maybe for him things did not feel the same. Maybe to the north it was cooler or the bad wasn’t so embedded.

But for me I just felt the deep melancholy and sadness of knowing it could have been for something better but linked to a deep disquiet that it maybe wasn’t me but all the others. All those scurrying around down there and doing things while I just stood and looked while wanting to change what it all was, but totally unable and fixed. Even stuck. Unable to move. Unable to talk. Unable to do. Just standing there but still fully able to think and to know, and my greatest hurt of all – to be able to feel. To feel so deeply, and to want so much to change. To change them. To change those moving so incessantly everywhere. To change my own father and my own mother and to change all those who looked to me as some icon. I did not want it. I did not deserve it. But I had no choice. Why? Was I created for this? Was this my destiny? If so please give me anything. Anything would be better. And the frustration.

And in the sky distant specks and closer ones moving all round from time to time. Across the sun. Through the cloud. Sometimes near and sometimes far. Sometimes loud and sometimes silent but through the day always around.

Today would not be a wet day with water falling from the sky and soaking and cooling before restoring a greater humidity, or should that be humility I decided. It was somewhat clear and sunny. But still my thoughts as ever remained clouded, dense, negative and disturbing. It was always this way. Every day it was the same.

But now my brother with light and it seemed noise and something I didn’t understand around him. But whatever it was, it was something I couldn’t think was good. It was something I hadn’t seen before, but it looked painful and hurting and not right as I looked at him across from me through a now hazy air and a day that was heating up more than usual. More than it should be. Something was wrong. I felt for him as though I felt for myself, and never such an anguish and pain had I felt before. The only thing that was worth anything in my life hurting. But maybe that was wrong. Maybe I didn’t know how he felt and maybe he felt as me. Maybe it was not a hurtful wrong thing but a relief from all the admiration. A release from all the purposes. A release from all.

And now I felt the blow. Hard and hot as it penetrated me. Hurting and smashing as it grazed its way deep into me. And with a deep pain and a flash of light. An intense light and loud noise, or maybe not. Was it real or was I imagining it all. Surely not both of us. But this was fatal. I knew it. It was not a little blow that would pass but a deep injurous one and even as it dove deep inside me I could feel the repercussions as things broke and became unfettered. Things that shouldn’t have broken or flailed lose. It was the end but it would be a sudden end. That I knew instinctively.
But a sudden happiness aroused within me as I realised it was all over or would be soon for me. I didn’t know for my twin. I couldn’t feel for two and that hurt. I needed to know. I needed some certainty. I wanted to offer assistance but couldn’t even move myself, but it was getting worse as others smaller than I swayed and scurried and sound and heat increased and everyone seemed so scared and yet I was suddenly happy. Those who had admired me, those who made me some symbol or who saw me as what I didn’t want to be were scared, and I was happy. It would be all over soon.

Now I lay in a mess, in a heap on the ground. Brought low by that one mighty blow and still not understanding what had happened but knowing it wouldn’t be long now. Not long until I got the release I wanted. Not long until I would be liberated from all the falsehood and wrong done around or through me, and happy. Only my brother remained a concern as I lay waiting for the final darkness to consume me and leave me forever free even if maybe I suddenly thought I was destined to be remembered for something or as something that I didn’t want to be remembered. A sudden horrible thought, but I wouldn’t be there and if they wanted to continue their own delusions then it wouldn’t affect me. If they didn’t want to learn then at least I wouldn’t be there to suffer them anymore, which would be good.

Now is close to the time when I will close my eyes, but when I do, I know there will be no coming back and I struggle to keep them open for there still is my brother struggling to stay up, and the struggle looks harder and harder with every minute but I don’t want to let go until I know the outcome. I realise that means I am wishing for an outcome the same as mine. But I can’t turn away or avert my attention.

Then as I feel so old and tired and want to sleep, I see my brother lurch and then start to move, but is that a slight recovery? No, he is gone now. Crashing down as per me and lying in a similar heap as I look over, I realise the mess that he looks is only a double of me too. We take one last look at each other or the broken bodies that still contain us and then with a rising feeling of gratitude to whatever has ended me and removed me from what I hated I close my eyes for what will be the last time ever knowing that my own twin is now with me forever and forever removed from the encasing shell and all the expectations, paranoias and hatreds that went on around us. Peace.