Let the court be held

Every night at 11 pm, I enter my room, keep for myself, hold my laptop and internally decide that my conflicts are ones that will not settle out of court. So, let the court be held.t

I brainstorm, write what happened, and then judge.t

The judge says “Now tell me: Why did you choose this course of action?”t

Desperately trying to overcome my negative ideas, I internally think “Shut up REMORSE. Shut up fucken Majesty”.t

The judge looks at the jury. A small piece of paper flies towards him. Then, like a thunder, his voice echoes: “Guilty”.t

Most of the audience cheers up, webbing their hands over their mouths, mocking at me.t

BUT I AM NOT.t

I am just some good guy who decided to choose the good side of the agony. A lifeboat who knew he would sink, but insisted to offer help for a sunken hope. It was like putting my neck on the chopping block, stabbing it one time. Pain. I experienced pain within every single day for years. Then I gave up. I was not able to follow through any more. So, I grabbed the blunt stiletto and experienced a harsher torture.t

I came to a moment when I thought that unless I change my present, my past would foretell the future. I had had dreams before this, so I said to myself “Let your past dreams get back to their feet”. I know that I am the one to be blamed, but I am also the one to be pitied. Your majesty I now know it. I am half-guilty. I am no victim of nobody. I stabbed myself.t

The audience roars up. Some are happy, some are sad, but all of them chatter. t

The judge looks at his watch, straightens up, stares at me and says “The trial procedures will be postponed to the session held tomorrow the same time. Don’t think you are going to calm down. This round may be over, but the game is not over yet.t

On my bed, I lay half-conscious. I curl into a ball of self-pity until the next morning.t