idea| Life in Death

After sunset, I sat down on the non-weaping rocks of the shore, looking into the deep, dark, and silent waters of the sea, seeing nothing but myself. I turned my eyes up unto the end of the horizon, I viewed the phantom of unexistence; no ships, no color, but only nothingness. Everything was dead; the light, the wind, and the waves. I tasted the flavor of harmony within my soul.

Night falled. I thought of life, the philosophy of life. Dark imaginations came to my mind, reflecting the crying images of my childhood. It was like a dream within a dream. Is it a dream? I asked myself. Is life a dream we live in our dreaming minds?

I couldn’t help saving my tears. It is the bitterness of the tears that makes life sweet, I felt. Crying is the utmost complicated and most truthful tool through which wounded hearts express their agony. I thought for a while that the sea could be made of tears, and this is why it is salty. I wondered who cried all these tears, or is it the product of accumulated sufference that dominated the history of mankind?

Why am I here? And what am I looking for? No answers. I tried to fight my mind to get a glimpse of truth, only one glimpse. I looked around for something that could inspire me. I saw nothing; Sleep has cought the life of everything, and Night has put her strong hands on half of the universe.

Only me, the only half-living creature in the portrate, the only object that night couldn’t dare to supress. The only creature that is aware of the unpassing of time. No, but even me, I was betrayed. Something caught me and made me celebrate the the path of ultimate truth that nobody can pass through.

Time passed. Dawn broke. Something pierced my eyes, blew my clothes, and hit me fiercely; The light of the day, the roaring wind, and the fanatic waves are what made me wake up.

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