signs exist and they are wisdom

I often wonder over the existence of signs. This superstitious quality of mind led me to extremes. I try to read the meaning of every single thing and occurence.

Life is filled with happenings and small coincidences, that always carry a certain dose of symbolism. I think life gains just another beautiful layer if we believe that  wisdom and experience will never be literally dictated, rather, quietly whispered with a language that spreads smoothly over the surface of our life. It's a choice to take notice of them, to interpret them, as long as they do not affect our sanity, they are one of the greatest aspects of the ordinary.

The incentives might be many and this is an individual sensitivity that allows to realise the signs have been adressed to you. Sometimes we meet people who'll never play a substantial role in our life, yet they say things that resound within us profoundly. Sometimes we go to places that seem awkwardly familiar as if painted in our heads long before. Sometimes we just stumble in the street to remind ourselves we ought to be careful about living.

These are the empowering signs, that prove our supremacy over fate. Some things are destined, but so many depend on us. What we want to see, we're capable of seeing. What we want to do, we can put in action. The question is always - how much are we willing to admit? To admit is always a gesture of courage. Signs exist and as we learn to perceive them as wisdom, we escape naivety. We truly live as we take steps towards the better versions of our humble selves.

presence in non-presence

I never felt so absent in my presence. The feeling that reveals a world of opportunities - you can act, but you don’t have to - a great temptation. You are here, you observe, you know your opinion. You just restrain from making a gesture.

These days when your mind can blow up, like an atomic bomb, swelling from thoughts and sensations. Missing the outlet to reach the outside world, they are condensed inside you, as you accumulate the internal and the external, your patience reaches the limits, but the idea of absence  eases the struggle.

The reasons for this condition can be many, but they step down into the background, as you cherish the skill of steering your own indifference and let it be superior to all the instincts, impulses. This is the type of control that wont’t last long, but once it comes, you accommodate it and try to make it stay. Being beyond certain emotions is not a victory, rather, an expriment, that once finished, allows you to appreciate the full spectre of feelings life can bring. And it will. 

on flawless disillusions and the hearts affected

Accepting the love you do not deserve is hurting yourself without no one else to blame but you. How far can you go with the feeling that makes you loose all the esteem towards yourself? It’s not easy to rationalise those matters, discipline and the impulse of your own heart were never meant to go hand in hand.

Isn’t it simply beautiful - to feel the sadness that is paving the way for something better. Sticking to things we imagined as flawless is an ultimate security, we might never dare to test all levels of perfection. Understanding that whenever one goes chasing feelings that might be the fullest, he has to take risks as an intrinsic part of the venture.

I often wonder why we try to idealise the people we care about. Is it that we are trying to make them fit into the impeccable visualisation we conceived? Can we be satisfied by living in a reality that’s blurred so we can repel the actual state of things? Being honest in your life starts with the question: am I honest with myself? Honesty is also facing the disillusion one tries to keep in front of one’s face like a mirror that is so uncomfortable to hold and will eventually break. It always takes time.

Sometimes you just see people and want them so badly to give you what you hope for. This is when you justify them, sweep their flaws, think of shinings of happiness and try to give them the ultimate meaning. In fact, in between one’s laugh and the touch of hand, there is an ocean of things and matters unsolved, floating, you want to be oblivious of, as they unveil the non-glamourised truth.

I think that at times, the power of the dream is really unmeasurable. It carries us to places where the carefully selected elements of reality seem to make sense. We start reading signs, change our beliefs, raise our hopes. There is no better way to learn than to break the dream in your very own hand and let it disperse. Its dust seems tragic at first, but soon one can realise that to believe in things happening for a reason is not a symptom of naivety. It is the most beautiful way to let your dreams crystalise again.