How it all began
This is a flashback.
Maybe I've been watching a little bit too much of 'Lost' lately. But luckily I won't be telling about some island in some ocean where some airplane crashed upon and where some survivors have to deal with some other people.
This is about realizing I never started off properly with all of this writing, publishing and opening up to the cyberworld and beyond. I never managed to explain my why's, when's en where's. I never spoke about the who. Not that I feel the need to open up and elaborate on my most intimate details to a world for me too big to handle. No, not at all. A fundamental rule of someone who tries to tell something should be not to go too far. Not to forget that part of him- or herself the world should not be interfering with. There is a chance that one day nothing of that 'self-being' will be left, wasted in too much publicity. Dreams will be gone. And we will just belong to emptiness, to everything, to everybody and especially to nothing.
Anyway, we all do what we want with our secrets. And most of all, we all deal with the consequences of those secrets ourselves. Let's just not pretend not to have secrets, since that would mean not to be living. It would mean not to experience seconds, minutes, hours and all other indications of time set forth by the never ending ticking of that huge clock we sit on. So, secrets aside, this is a humble description of a journey we like to call 'life', brought together in one big soulsearch between words, thoughts, feelings, ideas, expressions, smiles, tears and all the other things coming from a place we like to describe as our 'heart'. A description however limited. To limits of life. To boundaries we set out, hoping never having to cross. To boundaries we'll never want to jump over. The barb-wired fence with a hungry big tree-headed dog at the other side is a nightmare we just do not want to encounter. So be aware of limits. Of limiting. Of being limited to where I want to go, to what I want you to know. Telling everything would mean giving up curiosity, mystery and willingness to keep on reading and to get to know more. Or am I just kidding myself?
It doesn't really matter. At least not for me. I like playing with that feeling. Just as you probibly like to play with the idea to know. So let's meet somewhere in between. Where we all can sit together underneath some big oak on a sunny day. A picnic basket. Some music if you want. I'll bring the wine, if you'll be willing to listen.
Maybe I've been watching a little bit too much of 'Lost' lately. But luckily I won't be telling about some island in some ocean where some airplane crashed upon and where some survivors have to deal with some other people.
This is about realizing I never started off properly with all of this writing, publishing and opening up to the cyberworld and beyond. I never managed to explain my why's, when's en where's. I never spoke about the who. Not that I feel the need to open up and elaborate on my most intimate details to a world for me too big to handle. No, not at all. A fundamental rule of someone who tries to tell something should be not to go too far. Not to forget that part of him- or herself the world should not be interfering with. There is a chance that one day nothing of that 'self-being' will be left, wasted in too much publicity. Dreams will be gone. And we will just belong to emptiness, to everything, to everybody and especially to nothing.
Anyway, we all do what we want with our secrets. And most of all, we all deal with the consequences of those secrets ourselves. Let's just not pretend not to have secrets, since that would mean not to be living. It would mean not to experience seconds, minutes, hours and all other indications of time set forth by the never ending ticking of that huge clock we sit on. So, secrets aside, this is a humble description of a journey we like to call 'life', brought together in one big soulsearch between words, thoughts, feelings, ideas, expressions, smiles, tears and all the other things coming from a place we like to describe as our 'heart'. A description however limited. To limits of life. To boundaries we set out, hoping never having to cross. To boundaries we'll never want to jump over. The barb-wired fence with a hungry big tree-headed dog at the other side is a nightmare we just do not want to encounter. So be aware of limits. Of limiting. Of being limited to where I want to go, to what I want you to know. Telling everything would mean giving up curiosity, mystery and willingness to keep on reading and to get to know more. Or am I just kidding myself?
It doesn't really matter. At least not for me. I like playing with that feeling. Just as you probibly like to play with the idea to know. So let's meet somewhere in between. Where we all can sit together underneath some big oak on a sunny day. A picnic basket. Some music if you want. I'll bring the wine, if you'll be willing to listen.
