I DREAM
I'm tired. I'm tired of this world, of this body. Of living. I'm tired. A lot. In my bones, in my heart, in my mind. My breathe slows down every day more and I find myself panting without reason after waking up trembling in a puddle of sweat in the middle of the night. I breathe sharply, as if I had to bear some kind of heavy burden because I'm living, yes, but I'm fed up with this life. Everything seems so dull and boring, even the clouds chasing each other in the vast grey sky remind me of the nothingness surrounding me.
I yawn, feeling the calm sombreness closing my eyes. My head tilts to the side, rests in my palm and stays there, bored, empty, alone. I sigh, while my eyes roam around the room when a loud tingle catches my attention. One of my dogs hit the cup of coffee I had placed on the floor and now looks at me with profound, sorry eyes. I smile slightly and pat his head. No, it's not his fault if the days march on like drunk soldiers drowning their sorrows into the bitterness of beer. They know they will fail, that when they'll wake up, the sadness will be there still, but they keep on with this illusion. It's so nice to find some rest in the sweetness of alcohol.
Unfortunately, I'm not like them. I lost my hopes long time ago, that I can't even remember what they were. And, sadly, I'm not even sure whether I can still remember how to dream.
I walk to the kitchen, probably a nice cup of coffee will help me think more clearly. Or at least, it'll help me get rid of these stupid thoughts. Who needs them, after all? I'm a strong, proud nation, a brave, good man and, most of all, I'm German. I don't need this shit.
Sipping my warm coffee, I turn to the window. My Bruder isn't here, today. Yet, I can still picture him there, outside, in the garden, playing with the dogs and that lovely little chick he always carries around on his head. He is such a kind spirit, my brother. I can't believe he had the cold blood to kill all those innocents... Well. I guess we all did. France, England, Turkey, even Italy, we are all covered in blood. I wonder. Do they ever remember the faces of the ones they killed? Do they ever think of them, before sleeping at night? What did they feel once it was all over? But most of all, do they know why they did so?
I guess today it'll be like that. All about remembering the past and getting nothing done for the future. Agh, I can't do this! I need to revise those documents or my boss will be seriously disappointed! And France will get permission to hang around my house more than the necessary. As if he wasn't always here for a reason or another. Not that I don't like him, well, he's even befriended with my brother, but... I don't like him around. I could be so much happier if I had a partner at my level. Of course, but who could he be?
The bell. Who could it be, again?
"Hi, Ludwig! Listen, I've got some serious shit I wanted to discuss with you and you can't even imagine what it is!" Alfred rants on entering my house and heading towards the living room with his suitcase under his arm and a smile on his happy face. "Oh, is that coffee? It is! Lud, you're the best!" He doesn't stop blabbing even to gulp down the rest of the coffee. "Is there some more? My throat is dry and this is drink sent from Heaven!" He requires cheerfully, he's not slightly bothered by my frown or my surprised face.
"I'll go get it." And so I move towards the kitchen to fill up another cup. It's not strange for me to have guests, but I guess that this one could be rightly called an intruder. Well, since after the unification about 59'000 of his soldiers live at my place, it's not that unsurprising that he's often here to visit, is it? And my boss likes him. They all do. It's not that bad of a guy, if you know him, and he's got some nice ideas. If he wasn't so young and dumb, probably he would get that war isn't that good fun he thinks it is. It's horrible. And people die. Yes, people die...
"Look, here are the plans you wanted to see about the Transatlantic Economic Initiative. And here is the new project for reconstruction in the Balkans. The one for the Middle East is in your boss' hands already. And here..." Alfred explains quickly on pointing at all the maps in from of him.
"Wait! Wait... So, we have a plan for the Balkans, one for the Middle East,.." I repeat in eyeing the charts.
"Yep! Here's one for Africa and the one for stabilization in Afgh..."
"What's this?" I ask interrupting the over-excited young nation.
"Why are there UK and China's flag on this maps?" I scowl. Why the Hell are they in Africa?
"Well, you know these two, all about colonialism and 'let's expand the Empire' and stuff. They've just decided to go and buy parts of Africa instead of conquering them by fighting. UK's too old for a war and China needs food and prime materials. And..." Alfred explains bluntly, much to my shock.
"Buy parts of Africa? I knew that Brit was a bastard, but I didn't imagine he could..." First, beef. Then, money. Now, Africa. What's wrong with that islander?
"Well, there's China, too. I wasn't quite sure at first, but then I saw the concentration camps at his place..." I look utterly shocked. No-one knows what it means better than me. "Concentration camps?" I repeat.
"Sure, lots of them. China never talks about this kind of stuff, but it's plenty of this madness at his house. I guess he uses 'em to prevent revolts or something. You know these commies, all about freedom and then..." I sigh, utterly devastated. No, there's no place for dreams in this world.
"Mmmh?" My friend asks. "Thinking something?"
"Just that there's no place for dreams any more." I reply coldly.
"That's not true!" Alfred punches the table. "There is still place for dreams! I'm sure! I'm full of them! Probably I suck at making them come true, but still!" I look at him sorrily. He's young and dumb, and he's not even good at war. I roll my head to the sides. I can't believe what he says. I can't believe anything at all.
"Look at me!" He orders. I half-open my eyes. When did I close them? "I am a dream! I was made out of the dreams of my people and if it wasn't for them I would disappear. Bye-bye, America, it was nice meeting you! We need dreams to keep on, we need dreams to give us hope, to wake up in the morning and get our fuckin' asses down that godforsaken bed! We need dreams to look our beloved ones in the eyes and wish the best lives of all for them, to think of them at home, at school, at work, safe and happy, satisfied with themselves and generous towards the others. We need dreams to leave home when it rains and to offer an umbrella to the lady at the bus stop, to go to the work we hate with a smile on our faces, to say hello to the asshole by our side at meetings, to find the courage to tell our friends we have a problems with them, to go home after midnight and hug our parents and tell them we're sorry for being assholes and... Stop looking at me like I'm a jerk! I'm serious!" But I am, too, Alfred. And all you say, unfortunately, is nothing but dust that will flow away in the wind.
Parents will leave home, relatives will betray, friends won't be there for you,... You'll see the pain in those eyes and you won't be able to help them. I move to the side and open my arm for him. He's crying, my poor young boy. He looks at the projects in front of us and imagines a happy world, where everything is peaceful and joyous. But it's not like that, my American friend. The world is a dreadful place where to live and you should learn that dreams do not come true. As if you heard my thoughts, your head turns to let your azure eyes stare into me.
I smile kindly, but there's no warmth in my kindness. I open my arm more, gently. I'm not the best at comforting, but I know how much the slightest contact can be precious for you. You rest you head on my shoulder and here we are, your hoping eyes looking at my sombre face. In the silence, our bodies moves into a hug. I'm not scared, but my hearts beats faster. It's always done so, before it was even louder. But then, brother, Austria, Denmark, Italy, France, they all took part of me, they all did something to ruin my dreams. I just wanted to bring peace. I failed. I failed, young nation. I tried to do something different, then, but one after the other, they all wanted to prevail, to be more powerful. I don't care about power. I'm Germany, I will always be the strongest. And you, America, now sigh in the crook of my neck, now hug me a little closer, now seek for more contact, more warmth, more life.
You kiss. Slightly, you kiss my neck and you keep on, my chin, my cheek, my lips. You're looking for more, you're not going to stop. And your eyes now roam on my face glistening with the same bright hope. I swallow and let go. There are no dreams in my empty body.
You kiss me, now, on the lips, in the mouth, you're still looking for heat, for love, but outside the rain is pouring on my earth and you're the only warmth I have. Your clothes slide down easily, you're now shirtless, showing off your agile body, but we don't stop our kissing, my tongue on your body, pushing you down on the couch, licking you till you gasp, you pant, you beg, and I keep on, my fingers unzip your pants, my hands take off your shoes, you look at me, but there's now a heavy cloud of lust on your beautiful eyes.
I smile sweetly. I feel myself getting hot by the sight of your ravished body breathing heavily under me. You don't comment on seeing me naked, you know my body very well. I'm pale and strong, I'm proud and serious. I have no dreams, but I haven't lost hope. I love, and what is important, I love you.
You wince in feeling my fingers inside of you, but you try to keep still. Your voice falters, your back arches, your fingers take a firm grip of the cloth of the sofa. It's an amazing view from here. I keep on, going in and out, rithmically, I don't bother asking whether I should stop, I know you don't want this to stop. This is a dream, isn't it? A nice, happy dream.
I know how to move my hands, I know how to coat my fingers with saliva, I know what that look on your face means. It's not the first time, and still I feel the warmth inside of me like something special, something new. Something I might not get used to.
You bit your lips, you butcher them, you feel the pain and the pleasure mixed together while I slowly enter inside of you. You feel so nice around me, meine Liebe, but I know how much you hate stillness. You're never quiet, you're never silent, you always have to do, to do, to do. Life is work, they say. Life is work. And you scream now. Scream my name, I whisper, and now you repeat nonsensically "Ludwig... Ludwig... Ludwig...". I smile, serenely, but my pants become louder and my trusts harder. I want you to feel me, to feel the inconsistent emptiness of my broken dreams.
My nails dig in your skin, but you don't ask me to stop, you just roll your head from side to side, keeping your mouth open like a dying fish. You buck your hips desperately, you ask for more, but you're too hot now, you can barely bear more. And I keep on trusting, faster, because I need the friction you give me, I need the heat of your body, I need the feeling of your muscles tensing under my touch.
Your eyes are open and white, confused and lustful, they look to the sky, to the back of your head. I feel a new wave of electricity passing through your body before you come and you scream, loudly, you want me to hear it, you know I love that scream, you know it makes the warmth inside of me pool in my stomach and you know I am screaming your name, your beautiful name now than you finish riding your orgasm.
You pant. I do, too, splashed on your sweaty body, resting my head on your chest. Your heart has never beaten faster. And I like it, I like the sound of your heart, I like the smell of your skin, I like the smile on your face, I like the stars that blur my vision.
I guess this is a dream. A beautiful dream.
This is for my beloved German mate, Sam. ^^ I do hope she likes it and accept it as a gift, as well with my best wishes for a great Birthday! I'm not sure whether I'll be able to call you on that day, so... here you are! Happy Birthday, darling ^^ And good luck with school!