What is life?
It is the place where thought meets vision.
What do we look at, what do we think about?
We look at what is different, what is bright. Not everything bright is always right;
Just as you might see the dark hue of my pen on the white of the paper. Or stars. They are similar, not rare.
Thought comes into play here, in the sky or on the ground. A star we wish to be special, a guide that’s found. Person appears in the void, where feelings are bound. This is why loneliness comes when we feel lost.
Once, as a child, I got lost in the market's midst. My parents searched, but I went to my aunts and “My mom and dad are lost,” I said. In truth, all three of us were lost. When we grew up we realised.
If you’re lucky as a child, you hold your father’s hand. You know where you’re going, your family’s your guiding star.
That’s why childhood memories are warm and light. Colors are vivid, the last time you heard crickets was when you were eight.
You've been running in the street all day. You came home. Your mum put that thick duvet over you. Your head was buried in the pillow.
Isn’t it peaceful?
The only place we’re sure to go is death.
That’s why we liken it to sleep.
Ah, sweet death.
The black earth, the softest pillow to keep.
Good night.
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