Childish wounds

“You are not hiding quite well. Seems you want someone to find you.”

He was startled at first then his face got angry and serious again. He looked back at the kids that were playing and laughing some hundred meters away and didn’t answer.

“Why don’t you go play with your friends?”

“They are not my friends anymore.”

“Then why do you stay here watching them every day?”

“I don’t know”, he murmured and got even grimmer. He knew, all right.

“Maybe you should talk to them about this.”

“Why? Would it make me feel better if they knew how much they’ve hurt me?”

Decoders

“We had a mad man sweeping the floors of the building my office used to be in a long time ago. He said that life had a message for him and he had to decode it. He looked for pieces of this puzzle all around himself – quotes of movies, passages from books, titles in the papers, accidental words in ads or other people’s conversations. He said that he could see hidden clues in situations and sudden emotions that he had. I’ve seen him take a small notebook in a hurry out of his pocket, mumbling something as if afraid he might forget what just came into his mind.

One day I saw him there – sitting in the lobby, staring at something visible only to him. There it was – all the happiness of the world – all of it, cuddled in his eyes. He looked at me and said: I’ve found it. Some days later they took him to the madhouse.”

“What was it? Do you really think he found a message?”

“Does it matter what he found if it could actually make him that happy?”

All the same mistakes

I’m born again. I sit at this beach and the wind throws grit and ocean drops in my face. Are you laughing at me, my dear breeze? I will laugh with you. As this is a curse I asked for.

The rhythm of the surf tries to mess up with my pulse and makes me dizzy. I have a strange feel of déjà vu. Every heartbeat brings a memory of long gone me's. I close my eyes and I see mountains, fields, snowy forests and crowded cities. I open them and the shore is in front of me again. No, I have never been here.

But I have been in this situation before, too many times, too many lives. It’s still the same. I am given a chance again – to make a change. Choose different!

Yes, I really have a lot to laugh about. I’ve been such a lousy student. Why did I need so much time and so many tries to learn such a simple lesson?

I know what I want to do. I will make the same mistake. But this time I will not regret it.

High expectations

I thought I was an angel. But how could I be an angel if I couldn't save you, dad.

Lilly’s flowers

Lilly is a neighbor. She is six but has a very mature understanding of life and “things”.

“My mommy said that some things in life are like the flowers at home. They are so pretty when you take them from the florist’s shop but it’s so wrong to believe they will stay like that on their own. If you don’t water them regularly, they will wither and die.”

“What if you plant them back in the fields and let the rain take care of them?”

She frowned.

“Well, but then they will not be yours any more, will they?”

The art of making presents to strangers

I talked to an old man sitting on a bench in the park recently. He told me he had spent all his life making presents to strangers. He gave me his guidelines:

“Well, you couldn’t possibly know what could make a stranger happy. So your best guess would be to give them what’s dearest to you. It’s also a good opportunity for you to evaluate what you have and to feel nice about it. Now, don’t ever expect anyone to understand the meaning that the present holds for you. The chances are high that you would be disappointed. Still, if it happens, even only once, this would be the greatest treasure. And the last thing you should know – never ask anyone to give your present back, even if you feel a part of you has died in their hands. Remember – it was not them who asked for it. It was you who wanted to give it away.”

“I need to ask you one thing. You spent your life like that. Did it make you happy?”

“No one ever gave anything to me.”