I find trees most fascinating... I think of them as silent guardians, or witnesses, of this world, and perhaps in that sense they remind me of my own self - I feel a connection.
Not so long ago I began reading on legends and folklore about trees and plants, I even began learning how to diferenciate between types of vegetation... but I discovered it wasn't so easy a task. Still, a fascinating and soothing task for my mind.
My mother told me once that I had always had a fascination for trees, and hands, actually. I don't remember gazing up at tree branches for hours on end, but I do remember that as a tiny child I used to play with my hands a lot. Each hand was a family, and both hands represented feuding families or clans. Each finger became a character, and always in the story one finger from each hand would fall in love with the opposite one, leading all the others to fight in a bid to separate them. I remember playing like that when I was bored, or had no toys around to play with. To this day, if I focus on my hands, I can still see them as 'characters' the way I saw them when I was little.
I get sad often because in my head I see what life could have been like - how peaceful and full of wondrous beauty in the simplicity - and it clashes with the reality that others have shaped for me, and the rest of us. I’m so beside everything else and every point in life that I keep questioning why the heck I’m here at all. I’m a glitch of human nature, a loose vector floating along the spectrum of Time in a sea of mostly predictable vectors (that would be you people). I also don’t like this reality because the world in my head is better, full of contrasts and colours, and my world within is always striving to better itself. It is a mixture of fantasy and reason stretching to infinity. Reality roots my body in place with invisible shakles. My eyes are like a window for my imprisonned mind to look out at a tiny piece of the world with no hope to ever be set free while the body (materiality) prevails in this realm.
I’m not interested in a lot of things, and I have very, very few ‘passions’ - yet I am open to everything. I don’t care about much, and I’m hard to rope into a trend, or a wordly obsession, because everything that man creates is pretty much part of a delusion, or a mere illusion. Everything created apart from art is created either to complicate what needn’t be, or to confuse the mind. I skip that part and like to look beyond the veil. So I don’t fit anywhere because I just don’t buy into our reality as it was shaped for us.
Sometimes I wish I could erase the body and only live through the mind... but that's pointless, I know. It's like saying you want to set sail without an actual boat to carry you on your journey.
Maybe it's all about the lack of love in the end.
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