Minu ga Hana

Posted: 1st February 2012 by yanenrogne in Life and philosophy, Litterature
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見ぬが花 (Minu ga hana) is a japanese saying that means 'Things will never be as you imagine, so you're better off not seeing them.'

I am living in a dream.

My dream is endless and I am the master of it. People aren’t born and don’t die either; they’re the fruit of my imagination. Everyone has his own story, feelings and problems, but they’re not real; those people are merely apparitions, actors playing a role in my dream. My friends are the reflections of what I always wanted to be and my enemies are made of everything that I find most wretched about the human kind.

Without me around, they cannot live and once I forget about them they disappear. I would be a fool to think that I know everybody but I feel that everyone I have ever seen in my dream are physical representations of thoughts and ideas I had in another life, maybe even someone I knew.

My dream is full of surprises that I do to myself, to be honest it isn’t surprising at all… I would even say that it’s becoming boring. The people around me are doing the same thing over and over like programmed robots; it’s dizzying and confusing. I can’t decide what they do though; when I do, most of them run away from me in fear. I feel lonely.

Like everyone else, I don’t know why I am here or if I have a goal. I am just living pointlessly day after day, telling myself that everything I do is only in order to achieve something that will help me to do something else later that will also only serve to be able to do something else that in the end, will be pointless. For this reason, I find it hard to find motivation to move on to the next step that seems more difficult, I have been given everything except the ability to like challenge.

In the end, I’m just like everybody else in this dream. I started to wonder if there were other people like me, living in a dream where everything is fake, even hope. If you are one of those people, please give me a sign, a proof that you’re not just another mindless actor and we will probably be able to find our way together.

I will be waiting for you.

Take My Time

Posted: 16th January 2012 by yanenrogne in Life and philosophy, Litterature
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Take my time…

Take it all, I don’t really want it anymore anyways. Time is kind of worthless if you keep on using it for yourself, it loses all meaning. I’m certain you can make a better use of it, take me wherever you want and I will follow you. I’m not sure how to express it properly but I could say that I feel like I’m buying money with money, like I’m trying to hydrate water, to freeze ice. It’s the same feeling I feel when we part ways, like I’m jumping back into that void of nothingness until you finally get ahold of my hand a draw me back by your side. How much blood will be shed, how much sand will flow until this merciless war end?

 

There once was two farmers trying to grow vegetables in the desert, both knew for a fact that vegetable wouldn’t grow in the desert but they also both really wanted to do this with a passion. One hoped it could rain, the other just sat back and watched. After a few months, the first one hoped that the sand would turn into fertile earth while the one still sat back and watched. The first one finally gave up and went somewhere else. What happened to the other guy? Did his vegetables miraculously start to grow?

No.

Sometimes, you just can’t grow vegetables in the desert, even if you wish that some miracle happen, even if you sit back and do nothing. But this man never lost hope, every night he would wake up all sweaty just after he dreamed that something finally grew. During the day he looked peaceful, like if nothing particular was happening, but he was torn inside, so torn that he wouldn’t even dare to think about something else. He wasn’t obsessed by it, but when you’re in the desert trying to grow vegetables, the only thing you can think of is about said vegetables.

A few years passed, and finally something came out of the ground. It was a tiny green dot, trying to find the sun in between sand mounds. The man was all excited about this, it was a marvelous thing, he couldn’t have imagined it would be true, he even started to not believe his dreams anymore. But this time it was true, he approached it to make sure it was real, tears of joy rolled down his cheeks, he thought he finally made it. He wanted to take it out the ground to show it to everyone, to share his happiness, but he couldn’t. What if it would be the only crop to ever grow in this desert? He better let it grow more so it becomes a real and mature vegetable.

But the man was tired to wait, he was at the verge of impatience and couldn’t take it anymore. Even if he now saw that there was some progression, he couldn’t wait a few more years to see if it will grow more. He wanted to take action, but what could he do? There is nothing he can really do but wait, and hope.

That’s what he did, he hoped.

Tales of him still run on the lips of the townsfolk, coming with an interesting quote : “I may have lost patience a few times, but I never lost hope”. I really wish I could tell more about this story but that’s all I know about it, I’m still hoping for the best, wish me luck.

Back from somewhere I never went to

Posted: 15th January 2012 by yanenrogne in Life and philosophy, Litterature
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I sat down on this old chair as a last effort, taking in one hand something that could write and in the other, something that could be written on. I had so many things to say yet the ink of my imagination was dry. I was reminiscing the old days as time was carelessly passing through the small window in the wall of my room along with the feint sunset light.

My journey was far from over, I just started what I always wanted to do but I still felt some accomplishment for what I have done so far. I wondered if I have done enough or if it was an illusion made from pure laziness. I dropped my writing weapon on the empty page. There wasn’t any words written on it, but it still felt like my whole life was transcribed into the very fibers of the paper. The plain-looking sheet was, even after a few glances at it, meaningless and shallow and its shining white was almost hurting my eyes from its brightness.

I wondered why I chose this piece of paper. Why did I take this particular paper to write everything I learned so far, to relate every good and bad moment of my not-so-short life? Was the sheet worth my life? On the outside, every new and unused piece of paper looks the same, there is no mistake to it, yet there’s a different feeling to each. Did I even bother finding the good one? If so, how did I manage to do something like that?

I don’t believe I picked one at random though, it was supposed to be an important choice so I couldn’t do something like this. Why would I write my life on the first sheet of paper that I could find?

Why was the paper so plain though? I decided to make it look better so I took that pen and started writing with the most beautiful handwriting I could produce.

I still had the same problem though, I did not know what to write. I had a lot of ideas but… where should I start from? If I start introducing my story, readers might get bored and stop reading before even reaching the marvelous memories I wanted to share. I wasn’t sure if I could start by those too, that didn’t really made sense. I told myself that I should start by writing what I wanted everyone to know, even if they will stop reading after a few lines.

“I love you.” I wrote on the blank paper.

Satisfied, i dropped once again my pen and looked at the paper. It still looked dull but it at least had something charming to it. I wondered if this would really work out, I guessed that I shouldn’t bother too much about this for now. I smiled and stretched my arms to open the window.

The breeze was quite refreshing, so refreshing that it lifted the corners of the paper. A quick gust came and took the sheet of paper with it outside of the window. I quickly raised from my chair but my old knees hurt so much that I had to sit down again, I reached out my hand but it was already too late.

I guess that was it, I wanted to write the story of my life, one could say it ended pretty well but no matter how you look at it, it’s a message of love without a recipient, it could mean many things but not many people could understand the meaning, I wish more could, and if something like that would happen, then my life would finally get its meaning I always wanted.

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