"Get off the bus!"
Why? Because here I stay, in my pain, in my fear, here Time has stopped. And if Future is just another mirror of this present, why should I get off?
How much have I staid here? How to get up from my battle field?
Someone showed me this video these days; yes, it's true, it's another part of LIFE. All of us get on a sort of bus in our lives. Think. Have you ever tried to escape Life, to hide from your own pain, physical or spiritual, have you tried to alienate in something, have you ever fall on your knees or have pain, real pain, put you on your knees? We got on our buses. Some of us feel this own bus, feel the protection, the calm, the peace and freedom of Death, some of us got so tired to be their own parents, friends, doctors, confidents, feed-backers, teachers that they got enough, they got the cowardice, and not the stupidity, to get in this bus. Others take drugs day by day, while others try to find their salvation in human arms. Some of us hide in the past, some drink, some write, some hide in empty beds, trying to reach their own souls, some just wait. For freedom, talking with their own voices, closed inside themselves, so hurt and tired that are unable to go outside the bus, outside themselves. Because there is pain, fear, hate, remorse, and loneliness outside this bus.
Once upon a time there was a cold March and an earthquake of silence destroyed all the masks and force to dream of a future. From that day, you kept on seeing dices rolling in front of your eyes, you felt your soul cut in two pieces and you cried so much – for the pain that you hide, for the Silence, Ignorance and ironically, Happiness around you – you hide so much scaredness – in bones, blood, and soul; every word and gesture that you made, that now you fall into an abyss of FEAR. Get me out of here! Please, get me out of here, get me out of my own miserable memories! Get off the bus. I dream of a mountain ... for my spirit, not for my body, to start over again in hoping. In Future.
Once upon a space there was a Pandora box. Once there was an Alice in Wonderland, stepping on a rabbit hole. Like her, I step on a broken land which lead me directly into the waves, and then a wave pushed me back on ground, putting on my lap this open box. Past hitting, running into the present, colouring it, killing the future. Mind is a maze, especially if you remember too many things from your life.
What do you want? Who do you need when you come undone? Who is really listening? Who is here? Who is not? Give me trust, show me trust. Have you…?
I have been measuring this bus until I know it as my palm. I watched outside the window and I kept in my arms this Pandora box. One memory here, one there, one flying, one hitting. How did I put it? "flying memories, one here, one there, one being a bird, the other one an ash, lightings setting fire, wanting to get up". Face it! Feel it! Deep, under your skin. Self-loathing. Self-destruction. Wounds that cannot be healed. Tiredness of the soul, melting in the one of the body. Until you feel safe in this bus, or in your battle-field, or in your waves.
Why to get off the bus? Because you cannot change anything of what is called past and you cannot heal yourself. But you can heal, protect, offer all your energy and love to those who bring you tiny moment of happiness. And for those tiny moments of happiness, you have survived, you have given huge amount of what you really are. Why do you keep forgetting this, why don’t you look behind that Pandora box, implanted in the centre of your soul and see the real you, who have saved Life, who have build her own Temple of Memories. Why don’t you go back to happy, warmth moments?
Happiness is not an everlasting state for me. Happiness is not a day, a week, a month, a year, a life. It does not appear in special days, in successes, or it is not brought by a romantic event. It is simply a moment, a smile, a joy that burns your sad soul and gives you energy to move on and hide all of your wounds. Happiness is not a person, but it is brought by one and a Memory – it is the speed underneath your feet, after you had fallen and you got hurt, it is the dance on an ice surface and the stolen smile of a friend. It lays on a hug, or in a childish game with a person that you love, it is a respected promise, a memory brought into the present, it is an orange bench or a green one, it is a tree, a rose, a word, a gesture, a feedback, or it is simply a look. It is a smile brought by magic. And top of all, it is the happiness that you bring to the people that you love. This is happiness, not inside yourself, but outside, not in what your soul feels, but in what your soul can offer.
YES, I am so damn scared! You know of what? Of Future. I’m scared top of all that the fewest people that I love will disappear tomorrow, that I have nothing special to keep them here and one day, sooner or later, they shall be bored. I’m scared that I will be too scared to say it loud and clear my ideas to the world, I am scared of what I feel, that I cannot control all those feelings, thoughts inside myself and if I show them to the world, they would laugh. Because again, I feel Nothing, a Nothing sank into sadness. I am scared of Bad Memories that hit me as they hit me this month, I am scared that nobody will be here to listen and take my hand, I am scared that I shall fall as I did in March and again, I will not have anyone to whom I can whisper how scared I have been…
But again, happiness for me is the rain from the dessert. You simply undress yourself of all the heat from your walk and you start dancing in the rain, in the middle of the dessert. After it is gone, you carefully take some water with you, take a picture with your mind of that moment and you go on. Because you’re no good to anyone in this bus. And you must go on, daring to hope that maybe, somewhere, hidden, Future will have something for you too. And you start hoping that someone will remember you with a call, a hammer, a hand on your shoulder, a word, or a kiss on your forehead. Yes, I know, how paradoxically is that? How childish a person who has never known to be a kid, can be? So please get off your bus, 'cause … No matter how hard it may be, how much pain you would feel in your soul, how much tiredness you feel, and fear and abandonment, no matter how much you feel and touch your dark parts of yourself, in Silence, learn again how to smile.
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