“Seize the moment.” Motto: “My doubts stand in a circle around every word, I see them before I see the word, but what then! I do not see the word at all, I invent it.”
“Seize the moment.”, said a quiet character, in a random landscape. But, what lies beyond the raw happiness of a moment? That moment passes and you are left with a mere memory. Everything seems like an endless loop of conflicting states of mind, except… everything has an end.
Bathed in an ocean of uncanny thoughts that felt like the void
the character was convinced that he’s somewhere on the edge of life. But he’s by no means at the end of his life. Actually, the road appeared to be just as long through the thick fog of uncertainty. He’d go back to the chase of butterflies, in his childhood, or he’d teleport to the great screening of his memories.
Between those two ends, all was just a life of make-believe:
monotony, sprinkled with some happiness and a little sadness for balance. After all, the recipe was clear, he followed it religiously and seasoned it accordingly. But, here he is, on a random bench, crushed by ordinary thoughts. Moreover, he wasn’t a control freak. He also accepted that not everything depended on him. He got what he gave. Anyway, nobody can preclude karma’s intentions. For him, a riot seemed like a useless struggle. He was content to follow worn-out rules, but not to seize the moment.
He wanted it all to be a poem, he would have felt different.
Obviously, he would have suffered less torment at the hands of life. Don’t wake him up from the dream, don’t tell him it’s one! Anyway, he won’t believe you. He’s too busy living for himself, instead of admiring what was created for his eyes to enjoy. What is it good for? He’s neither a writer nor susceptible to literary fantasies. It’s hard to get ahead without metaphors, at a convenient pace, on the run from the misery. Hunched by his psychosis, he sat on the bench, thinking how nothing was his. Then, he borrowed a puzzle. Its pieces turned into the same fundamental states, no matter how they were arranged.
He was an individual trapped in an absurdly ordinary world, like millions of others.
He had no idea how to escape and envied the ones who knew, namely the eccentric followers of the Latin dictum. Knowingly or not, he lost himself in the abyss of his own existence after all. If his thoughts had fallen, metamorphosed into pieces of matter, he would have been considered a vandal. As if he could hear the soundtrack of the sequence of sublime patheticism he was experiencing. He got lost wandering the great road to nowhere, while he was trying to figure out how to live.
Also if you wanna know something more about how to build youself feel free to check here how can failure made you a stronger person.
This is what everyone asks themselves at least once in their lifetime, maybe plenty of times. Indeed, the protagonist of this text asked himself the same thing. In front of him – a lake, behind – the railway tracks, on his right were all the right decisions crammed in a suitcase and, on the left, the road was blocked by the mistakes of his life. “Where to?” he repeats for himself. “In search of happiness”, came the answer right away. “Seize the moment.” The problem was that, according to the initial list of possible paths, happiness did not seem to be an option.
In front of him – a lake (which was beauteous at twilight), behind – the railway tracks (he had no money for a train ticket, no suicidal thoughts yet), on his right were all the right decisions crammed into a suitcase (the idea of leaving his home, a pair of leather slippers on sale and an expensive shirt, which he has been wearing for 10 years) and, on the left, the road was blocked by the mistakes of his life (understandably, nothing material, but coming from that direction he thought about going off-road). Happiness did not appear on the map and this seemed more dismal than the end of “Titanic”.
He suddenly remembered
of the theories his wife had listed after the yoga class. He tried to be present, to look past his worries and close his eyes for a moment. He inhaled deeply, exhaled, opened his eyes and… nothing. Apparently, the same “nothing”. A train passed, in its old-fashioned way, behind his back. A group of exuberant and dreamy teens shouted from the window:Look at the sunset! Seize the moment! ”. “Which sunset?” he wondered. Ah, in front of him, the sun painted in unexpected shades the nostalgia of the day before bedtime.
Our protagonist was there, in some landscape, watching a sunset that repeated itself and would repeat itself, before him … after him. But, for a momen, he felt like he caught a glimpse of happiness, like that sunset was the beginning of something great. Happiness did not appear on the map of his life, but he, if you remember, the tormented, the unique and already jaded character of this story, was somewhere on the edge of life, where, perfectly paradoxical, everything is possible and nothing happens.
Author: Roxana Robescu-Cercel