personal pursuit

I would just like to say that, after studying human nature as a personal existentialist pursuit of mine, I’ve come realize that more often than not, in any given situation, we have absolutely no idea of what we’re talking about.

Sad, I know, but thankfully this is not always the case.

I know this because I, like many before me, have been known to fool people into believing that I know exactly what I am talking about, when the truth is that I am as confused as they are. And even though I have managed to cheat my way into -or out of- quite a few situations, there has always been one thing in this journey which has remained true and constant all the way.

My writing.

You see, I have never written a single word during the winter that could not be read in the spring. Words themselves didn’t jump out of my heart simply because I wished them to, neither because I forced them into existance.

No, it didn’t happen like that.

The little ones and the imposing ones, those that were confusing to me at first, and even those that made me forget, if only for a moment, just how brittle my own coherence was at times. The few sad words that kept me warm at night, and those that felt so familiar inside my zealous heart. All of them, all of them simply found their way into my callow hands one day.

It was simple, quiet and brief. And just like that my life was changed.

Sometimes the ethereal movement of my hands controls my destiny without me knowing it. I don’t even care that they alone imagine the stories and the characters which make me laugh endlessly as I contemplate in silence the joy that is re-discovering them. They are small and fragile, my hands, but inside they keep multicolor stories of great deeds and everlasting warmth; stories which I would never dare to speak out loud for fear of abandonment.

But to see, to be, to watch in awe as my dream moves pass my eyes in ravishing beauty while I write these childish thoughts. To realize in that very moment that all my pains and all my thoughts, that all my wishes and emotions are centered around that one perfect moment. The very instant where all possibilities exist, when all it takes is but one look, or one smile, to bring my life back to me and make it what it once was.

I live for those days.

Frank 21.40