Meta-Me Thesis


Is there no stability in life? The answer would be either yes or no and either way it wouldn’t make a difference; the inevitable duality of a lifetime.

If I heard the sound of a violin, in the arms of someone who really knew how to play the tunes, I would be overwhelmed and be taken away by the sweet sounds of love and music blown through the air and I would close my eyes and die if only for a moment. Then I would love to be the one who was playing the sweet melody and I would know how to hold the bow and play. But then I would open my eyes and know for a fact that I do not know how to play the violin, which consequently would deprive me of the ability to play at all. Then I would close my eyes again, or would I? with open eyes I would listen to the beautiful sound resounding. It would sound less real but it would keep playing regardless.

There’s a line and there are people waiting. They are wearing clothes of many colors; but they look very sad, the colors are all faded, mostly greyish. The sun is very scorching and there’s an air of sorrow all around. Life has been sucked out of every living being and the smell of gasoline and bitterness fills their lungs. They are waiting in that line, the taxi line, waiting to be carried elsewhere to keep on with their deadened lives. He goes and stands at what at the moment seems to be the end of the queue. He’s looking at their expressionless faces and their speaking eyes. There’s a flower store on the other side of the narrow street. Seems like they’re closing up; he feels the breeze from afar and leaves the line and goes inside. No one notices but a few. After a while he comes out with a bunch of flowers in his hand. Smiling in that green shirt, he comes, walks very slowly as if in slow motion and goes towards the line. The flowers are absolutely brimming with life and color. They are soulful. He goes back and stands in the queue. Everyone’s still waiting.

There are only certain days when an angel would feel safe amidst the wild crowd. With its wings tucked in and its ever-showing smile lowered to a very subtle curve. But that certain light of purity, that glow could never be concealed and it never should. So they would see it, feel its different sensation through their soul and they would care to venture many a guess as it flows through their lives and lifts their spirits if only for a second. The angel knows every single soul so well, except for a few which would remain lovers forever for all eternity probably.

Supposedly the new shoes would fit perfectly; many shoes I’ve tried on before, many I’ve worn and outworn. Many I’ve walked in and walked by. New shoes always do come with a price. If only I had wings, then I wouldn’t need any shoes for I would fly everywhere and never land. But then there’s the valley and the green land. How can not one walk; for all eternity?

To have loved a few or a few more than a few or even a little bit more than that was a burden at times. It also was a very guilty pleasure which would leave this overwhelming aftertaste in your mouth. That sweet taste of a first kiss which would certainly bring all the more determination of its persistence, that’s of the many tastes of the forbidden fruit or fruits. And then there were boundaries, or none. And then there was lust over the many touches and the heat of a burning desire which needed to ravage something. So we did what we had to do and it felt good. The water turned into fire so many times that one could not tell the difference between water and fire no more. There was this huge difference though.

The shiver of a very sordid autumn day kept me warm and made it all feel so cozy and heartfelt. Yes, those autumn days were so long lacked and were the answer to the many questions of this wandering soul. Autumn was my home and even winter knew this very well.

We all did.

November 2010

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