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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2244637-29-years
by Hank
Rated: E · Draft · Inspirational · #2244637
Something I wrote on my birthday, 2 months ago..
They still exist you know ... These little parentheses in space-time .. These moments when the breath stops, when we realize the multi-dimensionality of our existence, but also the insignificance of our ego .. In addition, the very idea that we have of life .. And then suddenly we realize that we are doing it wrong, but it is not inevitable .. We are only human beings after all, fragile, lost, with so little strength, but so much desire, and to weigh against this disproportionate ego we have, we carry in our heart a love as hot as the sun. And above all a hope; a selfish but dreamy hope, a hope that tomorrow is another day in the dream factory .. This may be what will save us from ourselves when the time comes to save us .. For now we live just to live, that may be enough .. The sound of the waves gently caressing the fine sand, with a breathtaking sensuality, and this breeze that emerges like the panting breath of two lovers making love on a bed of roses, this breeze which offers me a truce from the incessant wars that ravage my mind .. And it is there .. Between these scraps of time that the soul gives free rein to its desires, that it frees itself from thought, from the mind, and finally awakens to this reality; the one that everything, people, being, the sea and its heavy squalls, life, everything fully awakens only beyond the mind. A new way of seeing life then arises. A window , like a wormhole to another dimension, a parallel universe where the laws of physics, religion or even humanity do not apply. I then forget the world as man made it, I forget this disproportionate ego, this good old hatred that fell in love with the world, I forget even the faces that I have known, and I I have known many faces, each one more expressive than the next .. I even forget what they were trying to hide behind the false smiles they wore .. I forget the color and the infinity of her eyes, the lightness of her hair, the delicacy of her touches, and even the devastating power of her kisses. I forget everything to see the world as it is, to remember only one thing: I am only a stardust, a child who comes from far, far away, and who wants to go even further… Where? Ah, that is the great mystery, if I knew it, then life would not be worth living anymore ...

Bejaia, December 23, 2020, 11:12 minutes, 29 years and dust.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2244637-29-years