i admit that there is expanding waste land inside, a vague sadness which could drown everything in its vastness just as the fog does now. it could drown myself and all initiative. i feel that i have been homeless all my life since my father died when i was a boy. i had realized it just at that time so long ago, and this image has joined me ever since. often i have been like a stranger in this world. i tend to sit next to myself and wonder what is happening.
it is not so bad, it just is like that.
but i can go out of this desert and cross borders, and i can take my own light and fire of being inside and stay alive, aware and as kind as i can. i actually can bring this to shine and warm outside as well.
otherwise i couldn't do my work as a doctor at all.
as a private person, nearly without friends, this means "real" friends, this is quite different.
in my twenties already i saw myself as an old tiger, irritable, constant toothache; the best thing was to feel my soft paws on the green moss of tropical forests.
now i do feel more like an ageing tomcat put at the side of the road, neglected, flea-infested, hungry and on my own. i scratch, i bite, and i purr up to strange ladies without any proper reason. what can they do but smile if there is no food in their handbag? what can i do then but leave and walk along the ditch to find something to eat?
come to think of it, i developed habits of a talking and even meowing to myself, more so when nobody listens. i don't.
i try to reach out with the flow of my life and light to this "you".
i see this "you" has no need of me.
meow.
you.
come out of the fog.
i do.
slowly.
as all proper tomcats do.
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