Meqë ia dolëm mbanë edhe këtë vit, i mbijetuam Halloween-it, festës, maskimeve nga më të ndryshme dhe nga më origjinalet. Ah, po me një palë brirë, një kapele polici apo infermiereje dhe u realizua veshja.
Përtej kësaj, çfarë është shqetësuese apo “horror” është : (ku janë trumbetat) “shqipja”.
Dihet që të kesh thjesht kombësinë shqiptare, i/e lindur/rritur shqiptar/shqiptare nuk të bën domosdoshmërisht njohës të gjuhës amtare. Do thoja që, turp nëse nuk di të flasësh apo të shkruash gjuhën mëmë, por fundja ky është realiteti. Dihet gjithashtu që nuk është e thënë të kesh qenë apo të jesh student filologjiku, poooooooooor të jesh me profesion gazetar apo të bësh punën e redaktorit dhe të paguhesh mirë për diçka që kaq dukshëm po e bën kaq keq, nuk e di ç’emër t’i vë? Nëse kini eeehhhmmm më falni doja të thoja “keni” eh këto këngët me këto “lyrics” apo tekste, apo vargje apo, mund të gjejmë diçka tjetër….
Për ta bërë më të qartë, në një portal online, të një lloj prestigji të konsiderueshëm, po lexoja një artikull dhe ç’të lexoja:
But I decided to quit so, I need to focus right now.
How do you cope with death?
Why does it feel like this question plops and sinks?
You learn eventually, to cope with life, life is always difficult but it takes longer, so you adjust and evolve as you have no other choice, get ready for the next challenge, a bit harder. Jump little rabbit, yeah, just a bit higher.
Does it sound easy saying what is it that we want? It sounds, but as a matter of fact it is not. Not always and not for everyone. What about the part when we are the ones that should actually ask for what we want?
Do we? Yes? No? Sometimes?
Are we afraid of a NO as an answer? Are we afraid of rejection?
The thing is, to know the answer. How we manage our social accounts on the internet is a matter of choice, no one is entitled to judge. Period.
Everyday we make that choice, starting by the personal data found in our profiles, the statuses and the things we choose to post, which naturally show what we stand for, fight for, long for, wish for. The photos we choose to post, locations, companions, when, how, posing.
There is this part of Tirana (Albania’s capital), we call it “Bllok” in Albanian as the abbreviation of “zona e ish-bllokut” translated “Ex-block zone” . Once this was, where the only thing you could see were nice little mansions, little villas to be precise. The residents you might be asking? Only a selected bunch of people, the previous communist regime leaders, the high society.
That space of the capital was guarded 24/7 non stop. Trespassing was not an option if you cared for your life of course, or the so-called freedom you were allowed at the time.
The title might sound a bit confusing, since we often read articles about:
Why people read? Why some of us love to read? Why should we read? What are the benefits of reading? And so on.
However I have never truly nor seriously explored the reasons why some people don’t read or don’t like to read.
I won’t list reasons such as lack of time, honestly that’s bulls*** . We all have very busy schedules, but some manage to find the time to read 50 pages/day and thinking of which, it’s not even that much to ask. So stop making up excuses, if you don’t like to, or don’t want to just say so, there is nothing wrong with it.
I have my moments as well, you know. But I get back from the hiatus, as I feel the urge to read again, as like my soul misses something essential to breathe and my mind feels poor and depleted.
Ok, then enough with me and straight to the point:
There are some of us that go all rough and tough, apparently fearless of loneliness saying: “We are born alone, we die alone what’s in the middle is a journey but in the end what matters is that we are alone!”
When you leave something behind or someone, specially someone very close or dear to you, it’s not a matter of just leaving behind, is also the matter of being left behind and finally being able to let go, from both sides.
I am probably too young, to talk about “leaving behind” and when I was thinking about it, I couldn’t help but mentally slap myself saying: “Don’t be ridiculous! What could you possibly share with people? You know too well, there are so many out there that have really,truly, deep, heart breaking stories to share…”
However, here I am rambling gibberish (probably) but looking where I stand now, I know that (more than leaving behind, to me is letting go) I’ve let go of things that hurt me, making me feel worthless and insignificant. I did the same with people I used to care about, but couldn’t accept me for what I was. I let go of them, to let go of bad feelings.
Leaving behind is absolutely related to memories, however they made you feel, and it is not about forgetting; it’s about making a choice, walk away, remember what made you ultimately walk away, turn ahead of you.
Sometimes, you have the impression they are fading, I know for sure they are not. They become a part of you, it’s still a choice thus turning you in who you are.