Tag Archive for 'fate'

Fate

In my dream I was lost. It was a very pleasant feeling. I was in a place I have never been before. It looked like a forest, but I couldn’t see much because of mist. So I walked and walked and walked. The grass was soft, and I was barefoot. It was a very pleasant walk. After a while I could hear a song, reminding me a lullaby my grandmother used to sing. I thought she was there, and went in that direction. I came to a hut. There was no door, and I could see a fireplace inside and nearby it there was a very old woman. She didn’t see me or at least didn’t pay any attention. I came closer. She was blind. Sitting on a floor, she was humming her song while weaving a carpet. It was already very long and looked very strange. It didn’t have a shape. It rather reminded a cloud. If I looked at it, were wasn’t any partcicular design, but many complex ones. When I looked at it closer, I could see many different patterns, though it was difficult to follow them: I tried to do so few times and was lost each time. When I looked again, I couldn’t find that string again, or saw different things. There were many knits weaved in together, and each of the colored strings was telling a different story without the end or beginning. It was impossible to say there this carpet started. It looked more like a net, actually. She worked very fast, picking a loose end from here and there, pulling strings apart and binding them together again, adding a new one. I was staying there for a long time, watching her work and reading the carpet.

 In front of her were there laying many different strings, short and long ones of different colors. Suddenly she asked me: give me yours.

I said: I don’t have any. She answered: everybody has. Give me the one you like.

I picked one from the floor and gave it to her. She told me, pointing with her hand: your home is that way. And I left.

When I woke up, I thought about this dream and what it could mean. I knew it was a special one. I thought I have met Fate. The strings were that some people call lives, and some call dreams. But what was it about? I felt like I learnt a lot by reading those shapes and following strings, but when I tried to remember anything of it, there was nothing. Nil.

Abraxus

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Buses and One Night Stands

There are people like me, who just want to walk away and never look back. To forget everything. To become nothing but an individual in the here and the now. A person without a past. A person with nothing to bring them down, except for the absence of that past and the questions left by it. “Who am I?” “Where did I come from?” “Why am I here?”

And then there are people like her that are just that- a past. A memory. Something someone like me would spend years trying to forget.

I remember the first time I met her. The first time I was lost in those damn blue eyes. It was on the city bus one fall afternoon. I was on my way out of town, looking forward to starting my new life.

“Is this seat taken?” She asked politely in her sweet, young voice. Four words that would forever change me. I didn’t argue as I caught her scent. Every now and then I think I catch it on the breeze, and it still makes me light headed.

We rode that damn bus around the city for the rest of the day, until it ended at the station. We’d get to my stop and I’d ask “Are you getting off?”

“No,” she’d smile and reply.

“Neither am I.”

We’d hit it off immediately. We held hands as I walked her home. We were falling in love. Continue reading ‘Buses and One Night Stands’

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