I was tired, actually exhausted and irritated. Another fight with mom about tattoos… What’s the “bound to earth for eternity” supposed to mean and what’s that got to do with getting ink done anyway??
When is this damn bus getting on the way? Can’t wait to get back home. Don’t look at me mom, I am not coming over there. Sitting in the back, suits me just fine, right?
Oh I had fallen asleep, for how long? Mmmm, nice landscape, but still too far from the city.
“Slept well?”- I hear a humming soothing voice next to me.
I turn my head, and I see a familiar face, but I am quite sure, I don’t know her.
“Ugh yeah!”- she is mesmerizing, a hypnotic light on her so dark eyes. I just can’t focus on anything else. I sense her talking and smiling, but can’t make any sense, and I see myself from the outside replying back, there is a background noise during our brief conversation.
I admire genius, a gift embedded in our genes. Sometimes it looks so insignificant and small that is underestimated, underdeveloped and left to be forgotten. Sometimes we even fail to recognize what is within, being so busy with our own schedules, planning and programming things for ourselves and others, that the fragile potential fails to overcome obstacles… Sometimes we are too envy and jealous of others’ genius that we deliberately choose to deny, hide the truth due to our little schemes and fear of competition that will ruin some chances for success or growth or whatever… However sometimes, this gift is so huge and powerful that emerges and becomes unstoppable, unbearable and burning like an acid to those who loathed it and tried to kill it.
I admire genius, in whichever form it comes to life from our human shells and transform the world through science, engineering, art, literature in every way possible… because if I can’t be one, I can learn from it.
Today I shall mention, one of my favorite authors. I admire Ayn Rand for her strength, her beautiful mind, her creativity, her individualism, most importantly for making me believe that my mind and soul have the power to transform my life and see the outcome of my efforts. Her books made me realize what’s hidden within us and that it so close but not that easy to grasp…or see.
“The Fountainhead”, it left me with a huge book hangover. It inspired and motivated me up to the point that I could literally feel my heart swollen with pride and overwhelmed with adrenaline running fast through my veins. I admire it and I hate it, for this strong influence it had over me.
A single man in a world turned against him…
I admired even more the 3 volumes of “Atlas Shrugged” which besides the book hangover left me speechless and yet I hate the feeling of such strength transforming me inside out…
A man against the world, who “kidnaps” one after the other the brightest minds of humanity, leaving it helpless and desperate…
Anyway it’s not hatred, I know what it is. It’s internal judgemental inertia (that’s what I call it) due to prejudice, procrastination and reluctance to admit the truth. Sometimes I can’t help but be victim of my own traps, but at least I am conscious enough to acknowledge their presence and therefore control them.
Let me explain, as I know it sounds absurd. In fact, I fully get what F.Kafka was aiming at when writing “Metamorphosis”, the poor Gregor, was literally transformed into an insect and he was banned from society and what’s worse disowned from his own family.
Are you wondering what “feast” has got to do with Immortality? Specially considering the fact that “Immortality” happens to be the tittle of one of my favorite novels written by the Czech author Milan Kundera.
Are you? Good! (Y)
Yes, well I can’t help but also link “feast” with the, what I usually call “over+something”.
Let me elaborate, as for example when you overdo, overreact, oversleep, overexert, overestimate and so on; yeah you get my point over+something, somehow associated with exaggeration.
S:”I am not going to make it! I am telling you!”
M:”Of course, you are, don’t be ridiculous! You are so smart and brilliant.”
S:”It has got nothing to do with that, I am scared! I can’t talk in front of so many people! My heart beats fast, my cheeks will be flushing red, my voice trembling, I will be scratching my throat because it feels like choking… I am going to make a fool of myself and everyone will laugh at me…”
M:”Oh I really don’t get it. What are you so afraid of? Cowardice has never qualified you.”
S:”This is Public Speaking, we are talking about! PUBLIC SPEAKING! The big bad Monster, haunting me, since forever!”
M:”Weird though, you have never been shy as a child, quite the opposite. A shameless brat, looking for constant attention.”
S:”Mom, why don’t you listen to me?”
M:”Honey, I aaaamm. I’m trying to help you out. Hey what do you think of a couple of shots….”
S:”Seriously? Alcohol? I am having a nervous breakdown and all you can come out with is “a couple of shots”?”
“Oh now we are talking! I mean, it was about time to mention me!
Looks like these beings, humans they call themselves…. Pppffff I mean are they serious? All the things they do, all their misdeeds and everything, yes in the dark… Is it my fault?? Why am I always the bad guy??
AND I AM NOT EVEN A GUY FOR SCREAMING OUT LOUD!
Oh and Light? So beautiful, fresh and clean and so fast, how much is it? 300.000 km/s? What do you even need that for? People like her soooooooo much! What is it there to like, she is utterly boring, so serious…. no wonder they call it “dark humor”!!”
It will probably be some nonsense rambling, but when I replay “Island” in my head or “Ishull” in Albanian…
I finally get conscious about one thing. Everyone can have his/her own islands. My home is an island, my tiny untidy room with clothes, accessories, shoes everywhere which mum goes crazy about is my island.
And inside my island there are dozens of other islands, little and infinite, my books.
My books, each one of them is an island, another parallel dimension where unseen colours exist, where unheard sounds echo, where unspoken words are learnt, where everything no Continue reading Building IShull→
Me: Why can’t I be like you? Why am I condemned with the Casper’s cousin nickname? For the rest of my plain ordinary and specially mortal life? I absolutely get it, being a ghost and everything, I would not complain, I would accept my cruel fate… With pain…
E: Huh what are you talking about? Me: I want a tan. Just like you! Just like that old lady over there… I see tanned people everywhere and it’ s not fair!
I know, because I’ve seen it so many times, over and over again.
Have you actually noticed that sometimes the bad guys were not so bad to start with? Very often the villains were good guys in the first place, not some ruthless, merciless creatures. Then something happened, good guys gone bad! Good guys seeking strength and power to protect, to fight injustice, to make things right. Good guys that fighting the “monsters” they loathed, became monsters themselves, and the same old triggers: the loss of beloved ones, loneliness, misunderstanding, prejudice, exclusion. The aftermath when your heart and soul crashes down the abyss you try so hard to keep at bay, the cracking sound of your mind when it rebels. Now more than ever, I feel… I know the meaning of falling apart, you lose your equilibrium.