Wednesday, March 24


Born a thousand years ago, when the questions stated coming, they are friendly fragile creatures who pine by morning, afternoon and the night for crystals which do not exist. In this way, they are very similar to archaeologists, except they do not dirty their hands at all; but crowd their little minds with forests without trees and animals but with war cries of passion and more passion. They sleep late, mediating with the night to hope in the morning with heavy eyes, but of course they do not succeed and do not realise. Like, a man being spurned, they look up paths ahead, stepping over the one your eye may directly see if you close it. In their childhoods, they didn’t live with their parents; they observed them and loved them but never could figure out the tender nerves of the socio-biological blood connection thing. They exhibited tendencies to do the opposite of what they were asked to do, they lied mindlessly, dreamt soullessly straddling dreamworlds of other people without asking permission. Surprisingly, they sucked when it came to directions probably springing from a childhood habit of going in the opposite direction when asked to come this way. It was a conspiracy of geography and psychology where lost in mazes, they would fight imaginary battles. Hide-rs grew up to feel like outsiders, trying at the same time, to suppress all those anti-social tendencies like pushing a blind girl over the steps when she enjoyed precariously, her aimless life. They understood their difficult positions later and frustrated often turned to roughness in sex and abuse in relationships. They caught solace in different smokes, grieving over the hazy smoke when it flew away, or uncurled leaving them. They often barrelled into their bodies hoping to find the crystals in that core; they didn’t. Today, they cry silently and do not answer questions. Oh yes, it is a perverse peace.