One day home
Sometimes you need not be personal. But life carries time as a grown up nanny, we’re forced to deal with it. This is what I call destiny: a way that makes things unavoidable. Choosing, loving, hating even revolve around us, as we pick them. The closer choices, the closer people, both to love and hate; all there is around us is our destiny.
Talking about language, with language. Isn’t this just a bit too much? How can one think truth attainable if what we have left is only language? Thought, they say, connect you to the other. But the other is more, it reaches deep within. As wound still open under the scar of mind and body. We get used to everything. Except than that floating feeling of universe existing. But language tricks us fast. Uni-verse instead of multiply, one way instead of the endless circle. Images can save us, make the bitter sweet. And memory supplies an identity for us. Blue is blue (...and also sad), green is green (but also nature...); dark and light combine themselves to keep us entertained. Do not get this as a lack of freedom.
Destiny, that is whispered aloud, destiny is the field where all our thoughts are visible. Destiny is the light on our actions, it’s the way we do things, what we’re good at. But yet to us it means that we are not free. Now, that makes me restless. What means something, also means something else. A shell cannot be broken without its pieces falling off. Language without a mirror, words without an opposite are nothing but...
How can I define what’s left of us? We have to disappear gently, and understanding will rise up. And down again. Then we are capable of thinking. Yes, I lost my track. I’m sure you will forgive me, if I laugh about it.
Let it be so then. Let us for one moment be able to forgive and cry at the same time. Because being strong is not carrying too much weight. Moving ahead is our portion of freedom. That’s way enough for us.
Sometimes you need not be personal. But life carries time as a grown up nanny, we’re forced to deal with it. This is what I call destiny: a way that makes things unavoidable. Choosing, loving, hating even revolve around us, as we pick them. The closer choices, the closer people, both to love and hate; all there is around us is our destiny.
Talking about language, with language. Isn’t this just a bit too much? How can one think truth attainable if what we have left is only language? Thought, they say, connect you to the other. But the other is more, it reaches deep within. As wound still open under the scar of mind and body. We get used to everything. Except than that floating feeling of universe existing. But language tricks us fast. Uni-verse instead of multiply, one way instead of the endless circle. Images can save us, make the bitter sweet. And memory supplies an identity for us. Blue is blue (...and also sad), green is green (but also nature...); dark and light combine themselves to keep us entertained. Do not get this as a lack of freedom.
Destiny, that is whispered aloud, destiny is the field where all our thoughts are visible. Destiny is the light on our actions, it’s the way we do things, what we’re good at. But yet to us it means that we are not free. Now, that makes me restless. What means something, also means something else. A shell cannot be broken without its pieces falling off. Language without a mirror, words without an opposite are nothing but...
How can I define what’s left of us? We have to disappear gently, and understanding will rise up. And down again. Then we are capable of thinking. Yes, I lost my track. I’m sure you will forgive me, if I laugh about it.
Let it be so then. Let us for one moment be able to forgive and cry at the same time. Because being strong is not carrying too much weight. Moving ahead is our portion of freedom. That’s way enough for us.
2 commenti:
I like this! What yous aid about destiny being vhoices that float around us was a beautiful way of putting it. So too strength being not carrying too much!
Should we evade questions requiring answers? Do we smile quickly when a frown threatens the lips? Covering a wound with colorful paper so we don't see what we don't like to see - or make the sad appear beautiful when it is simply what it is.
Freedom cannot be found if its never lost and we thank one for the other. How else does the summer create its glorious reputation without the winter. What is sun to a man from the tropics but just another hot day.
Destiny is everything and anything you can describe in words, as it is also nothing. Language, words, blocks of lego. We make phantoms out of stories and fail to remember it was us who cast the spell. We are the wizards, masters or fools of our own making. Choosing makes all the difference. Always choosing, renewing our vows.
Beautiful thoughts here Fra, hope the journey and its story has progressed since the last one. =)
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