December

My trials of the year are over. The days that were never supposed to come are gone but not forgotten. I remember the times, times of sadness and desperation, when I was alone, doomed to fail, just waiting for it all to come to a beautiful end. I was a sad little boy whose heart was full of love but who did not know how to live in this crazy world. So I stumbled along the path of miseries, wondering if it will always be this way, wasted life and love waiting for an end, not knowing how to become full. Frankly, I do not know who has created the criteria of good life, and I do not know why they even exist. But I wish I could deconstruct them, and create a world in which everyone could live by their own standards. Crazy thoughts of a wasted mind. Frankly, I do not care anymore.

The twilight arrives. I open my tired eyes, seeing something between light and darkness. Gently I caress her hair. "Your beauty has blinded me. All I am and have is because of you. I want to live only for you." Who I am and where am I at are insignificant right now. To know yourself, to know your purpose, to find a way. It all comes sooner or later.

The battle between life and death goes on within me. The paradox of existence lurks forever beneath the serenity of the everyday. Each day has its miseries. Great changes are ahead. The next year is unknown; it may bring sorrow or happiness. I do not know.

We find various ways to cope with our mindless existence. Some people find happiness in the small things of the everyday. They are mostly content, finding their happiness in another person or something like that. Others cling onto something. Their happiness depends on their addiction and their success with it. And then there are those unfortunate few who want to solve the great mysteries of life. They search for something bigger. Hardly ever do they succeed, and thus they remain sad, always searching for that something that would open their eyes and make them realize the purpose of being.

I have come a long way. This morning belongs to me. The next days are full of the beauty of nothingness; the greatest joy in life. To be or not to be. It does not matter.

 

home

I broke my tooth at the cafeteria the other day. A moment of lost thought; a lapse of reason. It's the price I had to pay for letting myself be distracted for a while. I searched for an empty space and my eyes slipped out of the way. A flash between the gone and the coming, radiating its consequences to the distances. A creation of the world I have created.

Another restless night. I am so tired I could let my self go and forget the world outside my existence. Short moments of sleep keep bothering me; the momets between dream and awake, blurry images between the real and the unreal. I float to the place beyond my consciousness, travel to the far away places where I cannot be but where I can dream. Dark shadows cover me, as I experience the life beyond the immediate flow of time. I meet my red-haired friend. Her beautiful eyes shine all the colors of the world. Despite what has happened to her, she laughs as if there was no tomorrow. But behind her happy face is a drop of sorrow; the sadness of the reality. A sense of lost love. I wake up before I can say that the beauty of existence comes from the realization of the inevitability of the sadness of the being. I had to go through the path of misery to find the garden in which I now am. The necessary connection between hope and despair, joy and woe, relief and suffering, emancipation and slavery. I wake up to the dark solitude of the morning; yesterday being nothing but a memory, another by-gone day in the past.

Sometimes our dreams and reality intertwine, creating an existence worth of pursuing. To get to that point, however, requires an almost endless journey of failures and misfortunes. But in the end it does not matter. At first my dark-haired friend was nothing but a reflection of everything I adored, a dream of a perfect being, someone who could make it all worth it. Then, suddenly and without a warning, she entered my life, changing everything and everyone, me included. And her beautiful blue eyes opened like an ocean before me, uncovering everything that once were hidden. After thirty years of solitude and agony, it all made perfect sense. I remember the times when I sat alone in my small apartment, watching the world through my window, wondering if it will always be this way, an existence yearning for non-existence. The paradox turned into reality. My eyes were opened. Now I sit here on my couch, watching the world through my window, but something has changed. I see it now. I see people going from one success to another, never realizing the structure of existence, never realizing the true beauty of the thing we call life. Those, on the other hand, who bear the burden of being on their hearts, walking on the path of sorrow day after day, trying to make the ends meet, are the ones who can figure out the purpose of existence. And after all the years of agony and self-annihilation, they see it all so clear before them. Being becomes existence. And then there's love in the never-ending river of sorrow. Home.

Some things go on forever. Others end like they never even were. Life is a tricky thing we should not take for granted. 

A small heart filled with love
suffocated like a wingless dove
tries to find his place to be
yet there's nothing but darkness to see

Somewhere in this crazy world
Another heart escapes through the door
Find a little cosy nest
In which it all turns out for the best

And so it goes...