If from the darkness comes the light how much light can years of darkness create...
Can there be light at all in the edge of the darkest darkness?
Is it possible or it's just another carrot luring you to keep walking when the only sane choice is to officially give up...
Light might be just a fiction, unattainable dream like everything else that never come to be.
Why endless run along shabby hallways with turns and slippery surface underneath, with muffled voices ahead, with dying away sounds and ever reliving itself days.
Light is just an illusion of hope professing to be around one of these corners.
It won't happen no matter how much you try to deceive yourself in order to carry on this charade called life.
One day there comes a realization - beginning and end are connected in one giant circle that doesn't allow to step out, leave, or vanish. There's no direction, dreams are fiction, efforts futile.
Time doesn't exist, it never did.
I don't exist, it's just a reflection of a movement on one of the walls of universal prison.
Those tiresome tears
that burn from inside
Unable to hide
in treacherous corners
they could be a river
With turbulent current
to sweep all around...
No days to remember
No places to visit
No names, no voices
In obvious vacuum
The world might as well be a different planet
As foreign and empty as alien landscape
With everything buried away from the glances
Slowly suffocating reality with all the freshly built roadblocks, limiting movements and directions, creating chaos and uncertainty. Who wants that?
Yearning to see above and beyond the horizon, to explore the unlimited space is building up like a pressure that must be released.
Are we the prisoners of circumstances or just of our own selves with all the fears and doubts clouding judgement, impairing decision making, stifling hopes and dreams that seem so unreachable but also incredibly important and meaningful not to pursue them against all odds, without looking back...
Who knows what is what and what should or shouldn't be.
One thing is crystal clear - giving up is not an option.
The voice inside won't be silenced as killing it would only mean the death of self, final breaking point beyond which life would be just a mechanical repetition of expected motions, senseless in itself however precisely correct they may be.
The need to be truly alive is what draws us to go distance, searching for something that's only ours, keeping hope in all the dark hours that light is still out there even if we can't see it, not yet and at times not ever.
Something beyond the immediate and routine, something bigger and brighter and with the meaning beyond easy reach, just one step over the horizon.
The hot smell of cobbled stones is here again. Climbing up the narrow medieval street is never easy under the scorching sun. Fortunately, there is always an ice-cream place close by to soften the heat, refreshing desserts paving the way to one of the cathedrals, so peaceful and more importantly cool, almost cold even on the hottest of days.
Time always stays still here, as if preserved in an invisible capsule. Tall grey walls, sky high ceilings where even slightest sound will come to life and travel between columns long enough to be noticed. It's certainly the place to hide from mid-day heat just browsing through familiar faces of stone kings, queens, saints... Elaborate decorations, grey stone floors that have seen so much, ever present smell of the past always here to remind of itself.
If you close your eyes and then open them and look up those stairs behind the half-opened iron door, it may lead you away from your own era into one of those centuries you read about.
It's always half-dark and a little spooky, but so enticing, luring to follow the steps, wondering what's up in there, fabric of time being so fragile.
When having had enough of a mystery I venture outside, still hiding in the shadow, past the gate, and look down on the city with its sea of red tiled roofs below. It's easily the highest place and the view is stunning in every season. Slowly moving river with all the bridges, cafes by the banks with people under colorful umbrellas leisurely sipping coffees.
Hanging by the side of the long running downwards steps hours can go by easily.
There's no purpose, no yesterday or tomorrow, it's just this day bathing in golden shades of sun, swaying with trees, dancing with lights on ever changing surface of water. The perfect moment.
Years have passed but from time to time I still stand there breathing hot summer air, listening to the murmur of dozens of languages mixing up, staying in the familiar moment, longing to walk down the same streets back then...
In town it's too hot, movements are restricted. The sun above is in charge until it sets and cool breeze brings a refreshing relief.
August days are long, there's no hurry, no purpose. Going with the flow however slow is the motto. Icy drinks, tons and tons of ice-cream and murmuring fan...
When you summon all your courage and venture outside in search of green there's always a reward ahead. Under the trees is another world and soft grass tickles feet taking the pains of long walk away, invigorating with new energy.
Distant landscape luring further... The midday sun is starring from above blurring the lines, lulling into a sleep with sounds softening and fading away... shhh
You fall into a dream of flowers, sky and distant lake with promised cool water where you can immerse yourself and let go of heat... Water..., so cool and refreshing, so delicate in texture, streaming away...
Your eyes are suddenly open and you realize that it's starting to rain, drops are landing randomly at first and then more deliberate and in unison. Short run for the cover and an afternoon shower is landing like an alien ship catching everyone completely unaware.
For a moment it's just a wall of water and world around is just a refraction. It's like looking in a long corridor of mirrors in search of the ultimate end.
The clouds are gathering and slowly drifting away taking rain to a new place. The sound of running water is replaced again with birds songs and insects buzzing. The air is so fresh and full with summer smells, the washed colors are brighter, the sky is deeper, and amazing clarity is back.
The sun is sliding further down softening the heat.
The day is gone through you and is disappearing as we speak to be back again tomorrow to challenge and surprise
The beauty that never fades, that is simple and yet an expression of the myriads of shades and sounds. It stands in front of you in all its modesty that doesn't require any explanation and takes your breath away, holding your soul in its delicate palms making you very aware of the feelings streaming through like a sudden light from behind the clouds at the end of the storm. The air is so charged, the senses are heightened to the breaking point where you afraid to open your eyes. The view might tear you apart only to collect the pieces seconds later and heal and shape your whole being into something radically new.
The transformation is almost complete. Once more there's a chance to come out of the cocoon and soar. The skies are tempting. Diving into unknown and yet so painfully familiar from the mix of memories and dreams is exhilarating. There aren't any regrets or restrictions,
only the vast emptiness of ever-consuming space with the beauty in its highest form, simple as a lone drop of rain rolling down the cheek pretending to be something else.
The trip I've been dreaming about for years. The day is coming really soon. Not much to pack, the space is way too limited.
It's a one way joirney and I understand what it means. No going back. It doesn't bother me. I am ready. I have been ready for a long time. The inevitable trip I was going to make.
It's too exciting to have time to look back. Things ahead eclipse anything in the past lowering memories in a soft shadowy cloud to unpack later and cherish.
Just to think of it. The whole planet is in front of you. That's an ultimate frontier experience.
It doesn't feel like leaving at all, not at the moment at least. It feels more like coming back after a prolonged break, a newly discovered old house that needs some fixing and sorting to be whole and livable once again. I want to see it happening, use my bare hands building something new from scratch.
Will I miss things I'll have to leave behind? Of course, I'm only a human. But they are not enough to hold me back.
We were born to move and explore. The whole civilization was build on that simple notion of constant movement in space and time. We are not designed to stay put for too long. Universe is a big place. What's the use of it if you only know one corner.
I am going to bring my life and my memories with me and make so many new ones.
Pictures, faces, scenery...
We'll leave without any expectations to go back and compare. There's little point in it.
Things that are supposed to be different will be, no matter how much we'd want to bend them to acomodate our tastes. The sky will be different color, the air, land. And it's fine.
On our journey we'll look at Earth and see it shrink in size until it'll loose its color and finally turn into a little speck of light lost between planets and stars barely available to the naked eye. We'll still know it's there.
Everything in life is just another step. I am making this step because I know there's nothing left for me here. When feeling like this persist you'd listen carefully.
When life you have lived so far is just a prelude to something yet unknown you'd pack your bags and head forward. That's what it's all about. Uncharted routes that you must take throwing caution to the wind.
What will I miss the most... The moments. Occasional scenery, conversation, people that are gone, the quiet intensity of things minutes before they are irrevocably changed. I won't dwell on the past but it will always be there.
I am wondering what would my first step in a new place feel like.
It's incredible to know that you can move in any direction of your choice. I'm sure I'll enjoy all the space. After all in our crowded old world it's a precious commodity.
I will miss the seasons, flowing water, green...
But it could be remedied in time and with the effort.
The scenery will be refined, climate will change. It's not important if I live to see it. I'm glad to be a part of the process, however little role I'll play.
Future is bigger than anyone of us.
The project we are undertaking is beyond just one lifetime.
I'm trying to decide on things to bring. The rest must be discarded, given away. It feels right. No regrets.