I am writing to you and looking at the sunset,
As a man who gave his life for this,
I look, rushing into heat or chills,
How a skyscraper falls to the ground.
Spleen
The fog slowly crept into the clearing. I looked back. I saw this for the first time. It’s like a wall of steam is just coming out from behind the trees. A girl ran out of the fog and fell into his arms. She sobbed loudly and kept repeating: “I don’t want it, I don’t want it like that!” Is there really no other way?! I’m afraid! What if I can’t stand it?! What if I commit suicide!!? I’d rather go to therapy! And let it take years!!…” He stroked her head like a child, remained silent, smiled a “Cheshire” smile hidden by the foggy twilight. It was as if this picture began my countdown into the underbelly of my own life. I was afraid too. Vaguely imagining what exactly. But at that moment I firmly understood why. Her last sentence… Years are all I have. And so many of them have already gone!! That I’m not ready to give another day! And yes, for this, I believe, ceremonies or rituals are needed. Those that everyone chooses for themselves. I am close to the Indians, both northern and southern. And what they did suits me. It’s always a test. There’s always an answer there. It’s always exactly about me, about me, for me. And then please, assimilation After in therapy, working through fears Before in it. As you wish. But the experience that grows through the body and soul in a matter of days and hours will remain in every cell of the body and memory. And then after that – I once and for all, in any case, in any situation, the one who… did it…
Not getting what you want is sometimes luck, the wise said, adding that you will always get what you really need. I pray that life will be enough to see why.
In me, harmony is truly born from extremes. When you jump from a hot vat into a mountain river. When a person important to me categorically disagrees with me on an issue that is exclusive to me. When in order to really relax it becomes desperately necessary to strain very hard. When I have to come to terms with the fact that the world does not bend to my personal idea of equality and justice. And that its starting point begins exactly in the wrong place where I suddenly remember it. When I graciously allow not too fair, but always pleasant “corrections to the matter” in relation to me, and I am ready to stand in disagreement “to the death” in loyalty to others – “those I do not like.” When worrying about the future does not change it in any way, but completely spoils the present. When they turn out to be evil, they are just different ideas of good. Then this countdown begins. Towards your authenticity. Alone with myself. When nothing else reflects me. No people, no opinions, no food, no entertainment.
I just look at the world, and it looks at me. And suddenly the memory of tear-filled eyes on the contrary, repeating the hackneyed words: forgive me, thank you, and now this – I regret, like an electric current turns on my whole body. They fill all my “troubles” with such enormous meaning. About the fact that I and “they” were parts of a big Plan. About the fact that my pain, resentment, anger, helplessness, intertwined into a terrible knot then, has become part of an exquisite pattern now. About the fact that my parents who did not act as I wanted, and my friends on whom I put the word “friends” on, various “formers” throughout my life who taught me bitter experience, all these people with whom I wanted it this way, but it turned out differently in the entities were also part of the circumstances about which one can say for sure – I am incredibly sorry. And the Rubik’s cube in my head turns from a kaleidoscopic mess into even colors on each side. Here are friends, and here is family, and here are the parents who gave what they gave and with this I became the way I am now.
And this me prefers to spend time filling the spiritual component of any business I do. And perhaps if everything in my life were simpler, I would be wearing some Louboutins and toiling away from boredom on some islands with a cocktail in my hand. But instead, I’m hanging around on the ground, causing my relatives a lot of worries. I make friends in a short period of time and respond to the surprised glances of my acquaintances, saying, how come two or three weeks and you say my friend, yes friend. Because the intensity of the experiences was too great, because there was a threat to life, because in such situations we saw through each other, we saw everything that we might not have known for years when we met for coffee and “talked” even about “philosophically important things.”
I don’t advertise any method, I don’t think that everyone can be helped by exactly this and exactly then, but I write about what worries me. About my search for authenticity, about my search for meaning, about my idea that a person probably loses everything only with life, in all other cases there is a way out, albeit not as wide and huge as the entrance, but still a way, a chance or a tiny opportunity to turn around everything is in a different polarity. And it seems to me that it’s still better to look for options thinking this way than the other way around, since you’ve ended up on this planet, even if not by your own conscious will 🙂
I am writing to you that I am flying home,
That parting will soon be gone,
I’m writing while I’m red traffic light,
I write until my iPhone runs out.
