Dear Life

Friday, January 19, 2007

dear life 80

Dear life,
Such a long time has passed by since the last time I wrote to you and I am sure you won't read this letter as enthusiastically as the first ones I wrote to you, as I am not as enthusiastic as I was back then. But anyhow, I felt I needed to write to you again, to connect to you through this page and these words.
You know yourself better than anyone else that my not writing to you was not because I had forgotten you, or because I did not want to talk to you. These past couple of months, I have rather been so involved with you, although it has not been easy, although it has been rather hard, and although one might say our relationship has not been on very good terms. Anyway; I was just talking to a friend and his sadness was the trigger I needed to sit and write to you, as I felt I am not alone in this bitterness of yours we are tasting. So I decided to start writing to you once again, hoping that you answer me back and we communicate more.
Nowadays, you have become a burden, a burden that seems to get heavier and heavier with everyday that passes by; the more we try to understand you, the more we get lost; we try to find joy in you, and we do, for moments, for times that seem to pass by as quickly as they have arrived, and then again, we are alone with you, alone in you, in a kind of lost land, in a maze that gets us more lost the more we try to find our way out of it. I see around me friends, people who are not friends, who feel the same desperation when faced with you. We feel lost, we feel sad, we feel incapable, we feel defeated by the conditions around us – the conditions forced upon us by the society, by the politicians, by the world powers, by the economy, by future, by ourselves, by you; we feel numb and powerless in the struggle to make peace with you.
There were times we were so carefree, so weightless, so joyous, with every little offering you had for us; we were courageous and we were hopeful, hopeful of the perspective of the you we had in front of us. There are still people around who feel so in peace with you, so accepting you, smiling as they live you through day by day. How can they manage that? Are they not seeing what goes around? Or have they found a way to untie the knots and enjoy it all, no matter how hard? How do they do it?
You have become so hard, so complicated, so untouchable, … Yet whenever I thing these thoughts, I start rethinking with myself that maybe it is just that you have changed colors, maybe I have to stop comparing you with the old you; maybe it is just that I don't want to see the changes in you. They say if change doesn't happen death will come, gradually, unnoticeably. They say you should accept people the way they are, enjoy their favored characteristics and forget about others, learning to avoid them in yourselves. But what if the person in front of you is a mystery and you don’t know how to handle them, as you are, a mystery that even if you cease to wish to solve is hard to face with? They say unreasonable expectations, that is the reason. Are any expectations of joy and happiness unreasonable?
We are becoming weaker and weaker in the face of your mystery, a mystery no one has ever prepared us for, but who has been prepared? Everyone is unprepared, everyone learns you by living you, don't they? So, guess we are going the wrong way somewhere. I am thinking to myself, I am telling myself, hoping that I would believe in what I am saying, you are beautiful, no matter what mask you wear, no matter what hardships, what confusions, you make us face. I tell myself we may not be as weightless as before, we may not be as carefree as before, but we are now newer people with new experiences, having more of you behind us, inside us, with us, and maybe that is what we are unaccustomed to: so much life inside us, maybe that is what we do not want to accept and enjoy.
So, you tell me yourself. I will be happy to hear back from you - I know you have never stopped talking to me, but I mean please write me, give me a sign; I feel it's time you … I don't know, just take my hand, take the hands of all I know and don't know who are sad of your leaving them lonely, take our hands, take us wherever you want to, as we can't oppose that, but don't leave us all lonely in that path of yours.
What a coincidence that exactly as I jot down the last words of my letter, James Blunt words spread in my room, "My life is brilliant …" Are you already giving me my sign?!