2004-04-24
This is complex because it is simple
Is it one of those nights when the words effortlessly float? I would like to know, how vast is the space which separates my soul from that of a genius. I have always assumed that the space was as infinite as the afternoon clouds.
I have taken a certain fondness for those afternoon clouds that appear after the rain. Let me paint a vivid picture of that rose-kissed cotton swirl dabbed with soft gray. The smell of wet soil and the heaviness of refreshing humidity all hit you simultaneously. I cannot speak, for in this atmosphere the human mind engages in its deepest contemplations, those that are effortless, yet carry such meaning. When you realize that you are one human--one soul wrapped in flesh. This is the moment when you realize that you can indeed step in the mud puddles, slip on the wet grass, ruminate over Voltaire, ramble to yourself in the middle of the night, wander aimlessly through the dusky twilight trying to find love, stare at the setting sun point-blank after looking up from a good book...
Realizing that you are so much more--that is the moment that we live for. I am convinced that we reach it at some point, and we lose it, only to reach another degree of it at a later time.
I know exactly what runs through my head, but do others know?
So, this is me as I realized today what life is right now. There exists this certain feeling that rises up from the very depths of my heart--only to be produced very seldomly--and makes many attempts to slip out in the form of words. I cannot articulate it--not yet. The moment that I do learn how to articulate it, the beauty will have gone. Articulation comes after, but during, it is non-existant.
If I could really say anything to you without loosing my eloquence, I would tell you that I truly can't see ahead and I can't see behind. The only thing that guides me is the bright coals that burn within me.
This is complex because it is simple...
There is no forever, and that's what slowly kills me--nothing more.