Innocent Eyes

Wandering around restlessly day and night, like nomads do, your innocent eyes never stop to amaze me. They monitor every move; they record every activity no matter how trivial it might be. Sometimes they smile in content for nothing; sometimes they cry out for everything; sometimes they just look for something. But there is one thing I dread the most, one stare so penetrating that makes me shudder to my core. Can anyone tell me, why do I feel guilt every time you fix your innocent little eyes on me?

Restlessness

Falling asleep is getting harder and harder. Is it the coffee, the stress or my troubles that torture me tonight? Images of past, present and future are blended into a painful pattern that keeps popping on my mind no matter how much I strive to neglect it. What I fear the most, though, is the coming of my dreams. The way my subconscious holds on my will and choices, frightens me to death. How can I feel ease and comfort in a dreamy world, when its achievement eludes my power?

I am still swirling around in discomfort within my comfortable brand new bed. The hour is past, my body protests for rest and my eyes ache from pressure. It is impossible to sleep tonight, yet I must insist. The darkness of the room can not hide my restlessness. I hear the breath of Morpheus next to my pillow, but I am not capable to reach him. Stretching my arm, what I sense is pure nothingness and freezing cold.

I am not cold either outwardly or inwardly. I have a complete life and, I may dare say, many moments of happiness to cling on. What is missing and steals my peace, frankly I do not know. But, there must be something or I would be dancing with the stars by now. Speaking of which, why have I not dreamed of this image ever before? How come and my dreams nail me down to earth and play vicious games with my mind?

Tonight, if I eventually manage to fall asleep, I will travel to the moon. I will have no gravity to keep me down. I will have no wings either, but I will be able to fly away carelessly. This can happen in dreams… and light, surely, there must be ample light, and joy, and laughter. Yes, a happy dreamy world of my own. No restrictions, no norms, no pain and worries, just love and airy creatures dancing around ceaselessly.

I am still swirling around, though, having a stupid smile upon my face. Why am I smiling? Stop that. Stop thinking. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Ah, impossible!

The Virus

I have a terrible mind-ache today. I guess I’ve got the virus in me. Do not open up your mind; do not accept what I am saying, unless you have already installed the anti-virus in you. At least I warned you. Now, do as you wish.

I have a terrible mind-ache, but I guess I’m not the only one – or I hope so. Overloaded with meaningless data, colorless images, and uncountable figures my mind is on the verge of a total crash. Attached to a degrading, shameless and thriving digital world, it is sent by-and-by towards a giant crushing machine of the critical thought.

I’m trying to gather my splintered thoughts and save them as a first version of an understanding that keeps eluding me. What used to be “dreams” is somehow renamed to “happy nightmares”, but I can’t recall me doing this change. My feelings are dragged from the inside and dropped somewhere in between. I am unable to restore them as they were before.

Fatal error, access denied, request ignored, everything seems to malfunction. Now, the signified has no signifier; symbols have no meaning. I’m lost in the translation of the binary code. I can see numerous windows, but no view. I can speak to numerous people, but not touch. I can do numerous things, but not move.

I wish I could undo all these and get back home, but I suppose I’ve made too many clicks alright. Now that I’ve got this virus, I regret for not having kept a backup of my best self. I guess I have to restart with the default settings and regain one by one all my lost properties.

However, I can’t do this on my own. I need your help to press the button.

Shortcut: My mind aches.doc

Copy and paste: My mind aches. My mind aches. My mind aches. My mind ach__________________________________________________________

Start; Shut down; Restart.

Wilderness

I’m naked, vulnerable to injuries of this darkness. I won’t stay long. Everything seems menacing to me. I’m shaking. I’m cold. I’m terrified. Standing aimlessly in the middle of nowhere, what I can really sense is pure FEAR. Insecure of my abilities, my destiny and my own self, I’m wandering into the wilderness alone.

I can’t see much, for my vision in the dark is not yet well trained, but I can hear the howling approaching me from afar. I can sense the ground moving, while crawling creatures surround me, waiting patiently for a wrong move of mine. I can’t trust anybody, not even myself. SUSPICION is what I’m on now.

Am I going to be ever free? Is there any hope left? Escaping this wilderness is not an aim any more. Habits are stronger than desires and dreams. They make you forget everything in a tactful manner that seems so natural and innocent. DOUBT has become my best friend for a considerable time now. Where am I going? Where have I begun?

I’m not sure about anything and it’s getting too frustrating. Living without a meaning is not what I’ve thought of my life, and in a second thought, breathing and moving around mechanically is not a living at all. So, what’s the point in existing? For as I occupy space in this place, I am an existing entity, as much a dog or a tree or a car is. However, all the other entities serve a cause. What’s mine? See? It’s getting worse. DESPAIR came along.

Maybe I’m not made for this darkness. Maybe a brighter environment suits me better. I can’t recall though how it was like, being in the light. Was it good and peaceful? Was there any hope, value or meaning? It should be, since every notion of this world has its counterpart, its opposite term. If I have ever been there, in the light, or how can I return, I am unable to remember. However, I come to believe that I must search for this light once again, for it is my only SALVATION, the only way out of this wilderness.

A Glimpse of Happiness

A glimpse of happiness by definition doesn’t last, yet it can change your life for ever. Some people never take that glimpse, asking constantly for more; more love, more passion, more understanding, more money, more recognition, more time… What the soul needs more is indeed a matter to be solved individually.

A glimpse of happiness resembles a short vision which reveals the truth about one’s life; a truth that is daily suppressed under desire, greed and despair. It’s like being instantly more conscious of your consciousness or getting up from a sleepy routine, where everything is done mechanically day after day without anything to really ever change.

There are moments, lasting for just a couple of seconds, that you can actually understand how the whole world around you functions. You can realize your smallness and vulnerability in the vast eternal universe. You can consciously admire nature, as the creation of God, because such a perfect complexity could not have been made by chance or mere evolution. Sometimes you can even sense your own purpose in life.

There are moments, when you can wholeheartedly appreciate your life, your health, your family, your home, your job. You look at your beloved’s eyes and feel so suddenly obliged to express your affection and gratitude. You can listen to hope and aspiration bouncing deeply in your heart and consider yourself capable of achieving great things.

There are moments you are actually happy with what you’ve got, no more, no less. Stick to them as much as you can, appreciate and enjoy them to the maximum, for they won’t last too long. A glimpse of happiness is by definition just a glimpse.

Negative Capability

“Accept uncertainty and the unresolved”, he said. If John Keats lived nowadays, he would be bitterly satisfied to see how his technique applies perfectly to our everyday life. And alas, how much does our life resemble to his poetry!

For uncertainty is what we know best, since nothing is certain, stable or fixed anymore. Nothing has been left to believe in or to hope for. They have greedily – and very tactfully indeed – taken everything from us without asking. Stripped of any kind of values, productivity, creativity, integrity, faith, hope, love, dreams, thinking we try to stand still on a moving ground. Like already dead leaves we go where the wind blows and hell it blows constantly towards decline, despair, decadence. So, what are we to do? The unresolved seems the only resolution. Accept it as it is. Most certainly you think I am a plain pessimist. Well, maybe I am, but still, who or what can prove me wrong?

I want to believe that Keats’ Nightingale does exist, but I truly wonder, who is moved by its singing anymore? We get delight from other sources much more earthly and superficial. Just turn on your TV set and see what I mean. Even the figures on Keats’ Grecian Urn seem to have a better luck, experiencing immortal happiness through their static immobility.

I am not to continue further with my thoughts. I suppose I have made my point clear enough. And for Keats’ proponents, I have to declare this: I am not longing for death, I am longing for a real life!

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