Time passes by faster than we realize and it is almost July.
A half year has slipped through my fingers with probably nothing concrete to show that I have made the most of it. The past days have been pretty gloomy on this side of the world. The weather has turned itself into a November mood as I have. Closed as a clam shell, surrounded by a silent and quiet sea of apathy, I find myself cornered in dark places. It is hard to escape reaching for the surface. No bait, or fisherman plunging his hands into these waters to bring me to a different future, and I can't swim.
In these days of senseless sadness I just wish to retire under the blankets and sleep, hoping for dreams depicting a better reality, a more meaningful one perhaps.
Eventually the sun comes lurking out of the clouds warming up our bodies and hearts.
Today the sun is out.
No dreams the past night, just a heart full of wishes and hope; the same one that woke up to a better day. What does make it better then? If only I knew...
All is the same, the routine, the air, the places, the people. All seems repetitive and at times pointless. Nevertheless we must go forward to find better things, to find any things.
For as much commitment and dedication as you have, one alone is not enough.
I often think that personal relationships have something of cannibalistic. We feed on the other energies, inspirations, aspirations to reset the stale batteries of our soul.
Creative jobs require this process the most. To create from oneself for oneself is a sterile and pointless activity; we need inspiration, we need to inspire.
Sometimes I wonder how those destructive artistic figures of the past like Caravaggio or Michelangelo, or as reclusive as Leonardo could have gone on day after day powered only by their own inner fire.
Was it curiosity? Need to affirm themselves? Need to demonstrate to the world their values? They had something more but all of them ended up dying alone...
Article comments