Even If I Was Immortal, I’d Invent Death
Even in a thousand years a man will exhale the same way the weight of life and at the same time be afraid of death. Each of us has one broken, round, useless piece of the kaleidoscope while waiting in line for the abyss that we….selected and hope it will change the fate of an uncertain future. We were created to love someone, to be loved. Not only of that, but to mark the birth of memories with every day going back into the voice of time, sifting through images of thoughts, placing them in the best light, just the way that we would like to be. All of us. We all want to have a distinctive character, to be different, special and yet not out of standards. Different enough so that someone can notice and see us in different aspects. I’m watching you; you are watching me, trying to see who we are when the lights of the social life goes out, when there is just me and a blurred reflection in the mirror. All of us have at least a fraction wish to be the one next to us, because the one next to us is looking in a better direction. Art of life is more valuable.
You’re filling black and white calendars of your life…
You go through old yellowed diaries of memories where you saved the first kiss, the first falling off of a bike, love at first sight, second or third sight, the old image when you were all together, first haircut with tears in the eyes and the last thought before this one.
Then you realize that you’re lucky you shaped your back with pride. Yes you might be afraid of this, you may not smell the end; the opium of black glitter, but sometimes maybe not now, but sometime everything will be under a marbled sky, small jerked letters to make up your name, followed by two dates and the only thing that will be evidence that I was here is what that dash between the numbers encompasses. I invented death to be convinced into the beauty of life, where art of living is more valuable than any shiny marble or an engraved name.