Ivy or a daisy? Lucky if you are an ivy.
…You are walking by the road when suddenly you see a house. It looks like some sort of an abandoned villa but you don’t actually care because your eyes are “pinned” on this huge, deep green ivy that covers almost all the stony surface of the building. Its majesty…As you get closer you notice the bold relief of the leave’s rib. Ivy usually spooks people because of its glory and it makes you feel that if there was a limit in the sky it would be able to reach it. You feel that it could devour everything that might be on its way. You don’t cut it off neither uproot it. You don’t want to mess with it. You just watch it grow and grow even more.
You turn your head to the left and see that next to you lies a grass land. Not a simple grass land but a meadow of daises. Beauty, serenity and smiles. You walk through the meadow to enjoy it. You don’t care, they are just daisies. Beautiful but daises. And as you walk through it, “the daisies of your sole” bent down one by one. They are just daisies. You stop and notice a beautiful daisy with all its petals on. You cut it off the ground and as you pull off its petals one by one, you count the probability of someone loving you, someone else, some “ivy”…
“Feeling important makes one heavy, clumsy, and vain. To be a man of knowledge one needs to be light and fluid.”
You wake up one day and your wife isn’t there.
Survival/Egoism: No! Don’t kneel!
You get up, go to the mirror and paint your face white.
The next day you wake up, you look at your white face and go to work.You didn’t get the promotion. Smith did. Yeah, you did your job great, yeah, you know that this isn’t fair. Maybe Smith’s feeling of survival is much stronger than yours. Besides, he used to say “the end justifies the means”. That is his favorite quote.
Survival/Egoism: No! Don’t kneel now!
You paint your eyes black and draw a big red smile that almost touches your ears.
You get back home and watch the news. Wars, ruins, dust, violence, fear. The system. You watch these but you don’t move. You feel tired. Scared.
Survival/Egoism: No! It’s fine!
You go to the mirror and wear an orange wig with curly hair, a tiny hat over your head and a big red plastic ball for nose.
The next day you learn the news about your elder neighbor. Mr. John who used to live at the house next to yours has been dead the last 3 days but they found him this morning. Natural causes, they said. He didn’t have any family. He must felt happy when he was dying. For a lot of years he had nothing here to keep him alive anymore. Suddenly you feel nausea, dizzy and a strong headache.
Survival/Egoism: No, not now! You don’t know it! Maybe not…
You go to the mirror, you wear a polka dot bow tie, baggy clothes and large shoes.
Take a good look at yourself. Are you surviving or are you living?
…Besides, there is always the game of multiple reality. Funny ha? Game maybe…You know, whatever you do you create a path, a reality, and the things that you do aren’t many, they are countless. And somewhere over there you get lost, that’s why you get lost anyways. The paths are so many and they don’t have the same destination.
The point is that it’s pointless to sit down and rub your head, trying to combine elements and solve a mathematical problem to find the right path. No. Else you are doing it wrong. Think about it for a while… Why someone has to start from the unknown to find something that already knows. Crazy ha? Truth though. You are doing it wrong. Well, this doesn’t mean that wrong will give you the wrong results because this is not math. Because, destination it’s not a variable.
It’s really funny when you don’t know the already known. What is happening? You can’t remember? You have buried it somewhere in the back of your head? Sometimes, you leave the trash in your head and the smell can’t stand you. You are doing it wrong. How can you bury something in the bottom of the sea? Well, you can say you have to dive in, reach the bottom, dig and bury it. It seems hard work but you do it because there, no one will see it. Because the secret always stimulates the human mind. It feeds it, it gives it a purpose, a reason. And you like it. You prefer it. And the others prefer it too. And you don’t burry much. You bury countless.
There are sometimes when you lose the bewitchment of secrecy and you feel filthy, lost and sad. Because the smell can’t stand you. Sometimes, it’s too hard to find the right way. You need to find the right destination which will have only lights, and it will illume only for you and it will illume the right path. You know the destination because you know where you have hidden it. But if you dig it up then the rest of the paths will hide in the darkness. And I’m afraid of the darkness. So…maybe I‘ll get comfortable here at the incandescence lights, waiting and hoping that the sun will come out and will come find me.
…Is just that your body is full of water and there are some moments that tide happens. You feel a stir inside, things that can’t get comfortable and they want to get out, burst out. They wriggle inside you, they don’t calm down and you imprison them. Is just that everything is fine and simultaneously so wrong. You lose the line that separates the lie from the truth, the right from wrong, good from bad. The waves inside you move back and forth, up and down. Your body can’t stand it anymore. The waves are stronger and they insist. The gates of your eyes open and water starts to flow. Slowly, cautiously. Because you’ve lost the line, because you don’t know why. Your heart starts to beat so fast that it hurts, your muscles tighten and your eyes become wide open. The sea will overflow, will drift everything and you will let yourself to its movement, to its tide.
Serenity. It comes without asking. The sea brings it along. You can’t resist it. You let it run all over your body, take them all with it and then leave. And now you move rhythmically at the bottom of the sea, where nothing else moves. Where only serenity lives. The sea will do its job on its own, that’s its role anyways. To rinse you and finally leave you the sweet taste of silence.