Hello, dear Clarice!
So sweet and reserved. I’d like to greet you and offer you my esteem, affection, and admiration. After that, I’d like to tell you that I’m about to join the ranks of writers.
I recently read “I Take Care of the World,” dear Clarice. I had a sudden
identification! I’ve been busy with the craft of keeping a watchful eye on the creation of the new world. We live in the pursuit of a precise intensity to deal with everything that surpasses the soul, to coexist with all this pedagogical density that comes in charge of clearing the spirits that seek to learn from this layer.
Let me, my dear, to tell you that I didn’t succeed in containing my emotional impressions, here or previously. I miserably failed to stay well positioned and just take charge. I got involved. For several days, I let myself be sucked into the pains of the world when my own were enough for me. I kept a watchful eye to not let the looks of pale suffering escape anywhere. It’s just that I came with the task of paying a little more attention to people. Human suffering has some nuances that make everything more delicate. People are fragile. Delicate enough to burst into laughter. That’s what I take
care of, Clarice. People’s laughter. I observe fears, sorrows, I check the soul when I can. We inquire about the weight of a tear. Isn’t it an inexplicably noble question?
Life, Clarice, is very personalized. If there are three people in a room and a plant
falls, none of them will have had the chance to see it from another angle except their own! Do you see, Cacá? It’s subtly dangerous. So everyone stuffs themselves with their angles and forges their circumstances. They deal with the traffic of their emotions, light and shadow. They deny their part in creation as if someday, who knows when, someone will come to settle the accounts, and the curtains will close. That is the laziest thing. That’s what I’ve been taking care of, my friend. Things I can’t touch. Just observe, assume, imagine. My mind is my laboratory, the word is my tool, you know how it is…
However, don’t assume that this is a lament; there’s a lot of good in taking care of the world! Today, I am in deep joy to present myself and delicately take the place that belongs to me. Dear friend, you know that our words spill.
You rightly observed that we gain nothing but the knowledge of how the world is; it’s a fair payment, I conclude. But the news, my sweet friend, is that reached by our efforts, we’ve had an increase, and while the world’s caretakers take care, slyly, they take care of themselves in the failed attempt to understand and in the decent attempt to help. We’re becoming People.
I hope I haven’t disturbed your peace, but quite the opposite.
It’s with great reverence that I direct this sequence to you.
There’s much to talk about, my lovely friend.
Khyom
