Must Love Old Ladies

Corrupt Congeniality! Be gone!

Destructive Discomfort! Be gone!

Light ends precisely at that point where darkness shows up. It has always been that way. Cold apparates exactly when the warmth vanishes. This is not new. Love happens just when all the hatred in you has shrunk into nothingness; when you’ve opened up your heart, as wide as you can and have decided to give in. this is as old as god himself. Joy comes up at the dawn of that last drop of sadness; this is happiness. And it has always been this way.

But life, well life, we seem to be confused about. It’s twisted and crooked. Like the hands of a really old lady, lying in deathbed, awaiting that final call to set her free.

Ah, old ladies and their never-ending tales of fight and fury, of love and glory, of life. They seem to be at the end, they would tell you so; despite the fact that they rarely ever even started this journey. And yet, they have this look in their eyes, this mystical, bizarre look of indifference and mere wisdom which really makes you wonder, are they alive? Do they know much worth mentioning? Or is it possible, the fact that they are running out of time makes them seem that way?

Young, with all the possibility in the world lying ahead of you, you just can’t wait to live them all, enjoy life, knowing that one day you would look back and have fewer regrets. Building a castle in the sand, are we?

It’s time to stop thinking and to start acting, right now; Perhaps with a little bit of reflecting? That’s another word for thinking of course; well, what do you know!

You are what you are and also what you wanna be and just to have stated something a little irritable but equally true, you are what you don’t wanna be as well. All to an extent, all partial, All you. And yet you’re escaping something…oh that’s right! You are escaping you! Is it fair to you, if you don’t mind me asking?

Do you want to look? So look. You really wanna touch? Do so. You have the urge to kiss? For the love of god, just do it! you’re dying to hold them in your arms so passionately? When then? you hate me for repeating this over and over again? Well, just tell me so I would shut up! I might, who knows! But lose the act! It’s as irritable and annoying as that fly who buzzes at your ear on some insomniac night at 3 AM!

Listen to the music in the air and dance to it, you know you want to. Flow, like you’ve never flown! Smile, like you really mean it, look me in the eyes and talk to me, we need no words. No language shall be necessary for us to communicate, authentically, really communicating.

A dance floor ought to do it, and perhaps a little wine, but nothing more. We have the moon and the stars and the ever-refreshing breeze flowing all around us. And love, in the air. Oh how wonderfully it smells. Smell it. taste it with your lips and with your tongue and further on with all your being.

Be with me if you want, hold my hand, no one has to know. Everyone knows! The big joke’s on us all. Things are happening, sometimes they just don’t emerge on the surface. Passion never hides, it doesn’t die. It’s there, present, all can feel it, and sense it.

Let’s show each other things we keep inside, our secrets, our lies, our passions and disguise. Let’s not swerve away, please let’s not.

The potential is there, it’s beautiful. It’s what we need. And we can make it. let’s love, let’s be closer, as close as we can, as close as we want.

Like those old ladies, during their final days and nights, during those teeny tiny moments of life they live before they die.

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