The most important thing, darling, is to live a fabulous life. As long as it’s fabulous, I don’t care how long it is. [Freddie Mercury]
They know it. And they keep pushing. Passing through the crowd. No time to explain. No time to justify their actions. They know it and just keep on going till they get where they must be. Because they know there is no looking back and everything they see is forward. The water washing their feet. At last.
Photo seen here: LINK.
Here we are. In the limits of our own existence. And yet we keep pushing over, hoping that our true nature will not fail us in the end. At least that’s what I know about this urge to keep moving. No matter what. Just to see if all these stories are as good as they tell me. So that if they were saying and doing things far from the truth I will now know. And I will face them. And tell it all. And then I’ll just give up. And be. None.
Photo seen here.
I could see it. Playing with you lifeless body. Burning it with its fingers. This rhythm that somehow made your flash move in spasms. I didn’t focus in anything but your face but I knew you were not alone. You were piled with other bodies. Naked. Bones were visible in places and no one cared. But me. Just those paced spasms. Like a heartbeat. Like that finger was giving you not life but death. Like that beat proved your death. Every time it touched your face it became darker with a smell. And I couldn’t escape this vision. Your once smooth skin was now being played just so I could be totally sure you were not there anymore. And all those bodies above you were moving like an animal. Beat after beat. The darker you all got. Blackness spread all over that heap of bodies. But I could only see you. And how much I already missed you.
I believe if there’s any kind of God it wouldn’t be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there’s any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it’s almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.
[Celine in Before Sunrise]
It can be hard to tell those words. Sometimes it might be dangerous too. And the world seems to deteriorate beside us. And we risk to mingle with it and perish. And so we write it down. Like having a point. Like showing proof. Like a confession. And we do not understand how that fragile us. Because Love doesn’t have a point. It doesn’t prove anything. And it surely doesn’t need a confession. Because Love is. And Love will. Be all. It takes. To be.
Sometimes. But only sometimes. Don’t let them fool you with words of self-importance that only feed your ego. Because loneliness can be indeed a blessing but only if you have someone waiting for you at home.
(photograph source: Flickr)
I can already see you. There’s no denying . You seem so clear to me now. I still cannot believe how I did not see you before. Because you are right in front of me. No hiding. Nothing but you. Evident. And clear.
They keep coming. And confronting me with their perfect stories. When they finish I’ll have nothing to say. Nothing to add. Just that notion you have when your distant memories are about to be forgotten. And you do nothing but watch them go. Hopeless.