The modern value encourages the full openness in the relationship. Yes, that may be right. But what about the thrill in uncovering the veils of human personality and secrets one by one. What attractiveness is left when you see a naked human soul in every relationship. Isn’t that attraction closely related to the curiosity about what’s under, what’s inside of that person’s smile, indifference, gaze, or looking away? Doesn’t it make the heart bother or wonder, suffer or pound?
Excavation; dig a bit then retreat. Rest, ponder, check the site, find the clue, analyze the trace. It must be hard enough that sometimes the mind wants to give up. But it is all about this, finding the treasure. And the true treasure itself is the process finding it.
You know what?
It’s all about money. At the same time, it’s nothing about money.
“Let’s take off that cape, and put this hat on! And dance!”
“I know it hurts.”
A nurse said when she put the needle into my arm. I loved the words. I felt like that she understood it. My hurt. My pain. Not the pain caused by the blood draw but the one I had deposited layers by layers for years.
Between wound and scar, there is the pain. I wish there is a pain scale of mind that can show the inside hurt level. I would put that like a silk hat on the top of my head. And so, if people see the number of the hat, they would say. “Oh, my dear. How hurt you are!” As if they see a wound on the knee from the fall or something. I would love that. It would relieve some of my pain until my inner wound becomes a scar that I can be proud later or a pattern I can grope with memory. But there is no magic hat that shows the pain scale of the inner hurt.
Instead, there is a cape, which can wrap the hurt of the heart not to show to anyone. The fabric is thick and heavy. Putting on that cape makes my neck and shoulders ache. It absorbs the fresh blood from the wound of my heart and leaves the big round dark spots on the surface. As the cape gets heavier, I drag it along with the trail of the dark blood looking like depression. It would make my mind trip more and impose the higher number of my pain scale inside. It is the trick of the cape that keeps the number always high and makes itself useful.
reach the hand out to the air with the open palm
close the eyes…. this will do.
“Death is our friend precisely because it brings us into absolute and passionate presence with all that is here, that is natural, that is love,”
– Rainer Maria Rilke –
Be my friend, dear!
I tried, but I couldn’t mend my soul.
If you want to break it, break it sweetly, break it slowly.
Hypocrisy might be my other name.
I should get real; be ready.
Take off that coat and sit down…
I am sorry.
If you want to break it, break it slowly, break it sweetly.
I will swallow the sorrow when winter comes; when snow falls.