Nightwind’s home

Someone once said that “The world is a comedy for those who think, but it is a tragedy for those who feel”. Sometimes I wish that people would actually pay attention to these words, because they may open more than their minds.

The two twins that killed themselves in Cluj a few weeks ago managed to keep a headline in the news until recently and many were outraged about what had happened. Why? Because they managed to draw a signal that there’s something wrong around here yet the message got misunderstood or misinterpreted along the way. That shouldn’t be a surprise … after all they had absolutely no real friends, when push came to the shovel, everyone was puzzled by this detail. No one really cared to know them, no one dared to penetrate their universe, no one really cared. Of course, they were alive and as long as they behaved in conformity with the social requirements, everything was fine. They went to school, they had a job, they payed their taxes and invoices.

Unfortunately, life is more than this. Life receives that meaning, that purpose which every person gives it. But what if that purpose that one gives to life is so high, so emotional and so abstract that the world as we know it today manages to block each and every path in that direction? I know many people who are satisfied with the little things. A good job, a couple of beers a week, good grades in school, these things do the trick for them. But if you ask more, you might not like the outcome. What if you don’t want to take, but to give? What if that what you need is someone that can see more than the surface of you? What if you need to find some ideas about morality, fairness, justice, love and beauty? These things have no general definition, no matter how much the psychologists and psychiatrists try to fit everything with one definition of normality which casts out everything that’s dark, that tries to give a one-sided meaning to everything.

There’s no light without darkness, no life without death. If the world suffocates you and there’s no sanctuary to be found, where do you go? Around there’s a boring playground, which lack the one thing we can’t do without: Soul. Compassion? What compassion can there be if one can’t even look to the person next to him and see the pain under the surface. Oh yes … time … we can’t stop for a moment.

This is how things are. I’m not the authority which decides what’s good and what’s bad. But I would like to have the authority to decide that this is not the kind of game I can or I want to play. I want that my decision to quit be accepted without comments.

I’ve played healer for more people I can remember. It’s funny how your own problems feel so deeply rooted in your own spirit that you dare not touch them yourself, but within others once they open up and offer your their troubles, it’s not so hard to clean and heal, regardless if it’s the mind, body or soul. Hard to believe? Not at all …
So now I’m talking to you. You dare not be there for me when I need it. You didn’t take the time to look beyond the surface. You didn’t want to know me. You, therefore, have no right to judge me, you can’t possibly know what I can and can’t do, you have no right to decide what I should or should not do. Shut up and sit down. And don’t sit so close.