Thoughts circle
I have not written for so long that already forgotten the feeling. Keyboard claps in the dark. I wish to write even quieter. No sound at all. Echo of reality might easily scare off any thoughts. I also learned that they cannot be formed out of spite. As much as one would like to squeeze a phrase, it will never lie if the music of a piece rejects the words. Sometimes I wish I can sound differently, say softer, or remain silent at all, but it does not sing, the picture does not live. Words left with a black stigma do not dissipate in silence, this method is much more dangerous than speech, more solid than memory. A box of matches circulates in children’s hands, leaving a cultural level mess. It will take years to sort the inked paper from books. Separate thoughts from fashion, sincerity from success. They are betrayed by the lack of whole picture, carelessness in the choice of words — they stand side by side, but do not fall into the note. It can be easy to get lost when one puzzle begins to resemble another, no individuality left — whatever word you pick, it easily is replaced by a neighbor. This promises that the picture is empty, the final message does not make sense, and each of the puzzles is essentially blank. I heard that it’s all about frame.
When you write often, you don’t notice the hustle in your head. Reflections descend in a uniform stream onto the paper, forming sediment, without argue, without eating each other for place. It is impossible to store them all. More important are the shopping list, the meeting schedule, the pointless nonsense that we have given importance to. But when you write, everything is simple. In the mind, there is harmony, space, and peace. If the luxury of self-expression is unacceptable, the head is full, cracking from the weather, pressure, stress … Consciousness is full and, in order not to drown, thoughts jump overboard. First of all, those that are not connected with the physical world — ones that are infinitely important, which we call meaningless nonsense. Without them, it becomes empty, but also easier. They do not dissolve completely, they remain near, around. In the distance. But they no longer require attention. Going deeper every day, thoughts on meanings, essence, light dissolve in the abyss of life. You forget about them completely and life becomes easier. Oh, if only “easier” meant “better”! And at sunset, sitting in a Friday traffic jam, after a long day at work, they pop up in your memory — thoughts that sacrificed themselves. They emerge, turning into a lighthouse under the rays of the setting sun, and their light shows the way for a second to melt away from the echo of reality with the first signal beep.
They can be returned. Return, and even be created. Their species is not always friendly, but mankind can handle it, I have no doubt about that. There are wonderful world survives in our minds, a huge part of which is possible only to assume, but not to touch. For a good, deep thought, complete darkness and silence are needed. I’m talking about the darkness of consciousness, the lack of attention. In the routine of life, exhausting work, fatigue, the inability to recover… behind all this game in pursuit of applause, life takes place behind the scenes, where the light does not fall. Doubts — the fruits of contemplation, conscious or not — gather in groups, find each other, trying not to attract eyes to themselves. They accumulate strength, form, overgrown with hurt, fall apart and form again. Trying to keep in the shadows, they hide at the slightest hint. Light scares darkness, destroys a shelter. Having grown strong enough, doubts send thoughts, questions, and sometimes beliefs to the stage. Those are not afraid of the light; rather, on the contrary, they grow under its influence. When a thought has established itself on the stage, a person can take it with him on a journey, hoping that it will not have to sacrifice itself. Or leave it on the stage, call out and judge those who dare to think.
