The next page
This morning. I sat reading. It is like closing your eyes. It all becomes dark. The world crumbles and shrinks like the paper in your hand. Grab it too hard and it will crumble. Grab it too lightly and the pages won’t turn. The world fades into darkness and the black letters on the pages are all you see. Like the bright light of the sun they shine the light of wisdom within you. The pages flow through your fingers like a freshly steamed shirt. Soft and unwrinkled, a small feeling of texture. I heard the voices like clear instruments in my ears. The characters came to life like a flower just fed with water. The world became vibrant. The greens smelled like the fresh smell of earth. The whole world blossomed.
As I sat there, drifting away into a new world, the light coming from outside hit the page in such a way that I noticed something. I looked up, the world still going round like it always did. I twisted and ben my book. Turned it in all directions. Into the sun, away from the sun. Still I noticed nothing changing. It was so clear to me. It was right underneath my runny nose. The world that I was just in closed like the pages of that book. I was back where I started. On that couch, behind the glossy, just cleaned windows. I could not only see the letters of the page I was reading, but also the letters on the next page.
Just like a train passing by during a conversation, it interrupted me roughly. Let me get back to the story. Suck me into the pages again. The pages crumbled within my mind. As hard as I tried I couldn’t hold the illusion of this world. Where the blues sounded like a smooth long strike of violin. I needed to go back. TAKE ME BACK! The page wrinkled as I pressed my fingers together. How could I lose something so beautiful?
Did the sun do this? — No it couldn’t have done this. I held the book up high. Looked at the pages. Just like a thin white shade trying to block the sun, but failing and still showing the vague form of light. The pages not only showed the clear letters but also the vague forms of letters on the next page. It distracted me.
The page ahead screamed louder than the page in front of me. It didn’t matter how hard the letters tried to shape and form this illusional world, I was drawn to the vague shapes. The ever present future. It’s like a sugary glazed muffin luring you to eat it. You know it’s bad for you but it’s right there in front of you. You can’t ignore it. What could this possibly mean? Didn’t I ever notice the letters? Or did I, but just never wanted to acknowledge them? — No, I noticed the letters every day. Reoccurring like the daily notification of your fitness app. It’s there you just consciously force it away. Until you can’t ignore it anymore.
The pages of the book tried to tell me something. They whispered to me every day. Every page turn I forced them away. Yet making me unfocused and losing the illusional world I just created. It bugged me for days, weeks, months at end. I grasped the pages so hard I couldn’t read them anymore. The harder you try to ignore, the less you immerse yourself into the new world.
The page ahead lures you in. Even though you haven’t read the current page. Isn’t that what I’ve always been doing? — YES, I’ve always been doing that. The day ahead is planned. Every part of the free day is filled with rigged blocks in my agenda. The free flowing energy of life is forced into lifeless strong shapes. The energy that is flowing straight from earth up into your body filling your heart, guiding it is now contained. Like trying to put a large tree inside a square garden pot. The vines will find their way. Pushing harder and harder against the pot till it eventually breaks.
The day ahead is more important than the day now. As is the reading of my book. The page ahead interests me more than the page right now. The mystery, the question. That is what drives us. The everlasting unknowing is trying to pull us away. We give into it. We allow it to pull us away. Tears rolling down our cheeks all the way. We want to go back. To now. Yet in a desperate attempt to control the unknowing, unforeseeable future.
I go back to my book. Trying to force myself back into the now. Still trying to force the free flowing essence into a box of my day.
Yet this morning I just sat. Smiling to the sun, greeting the future as an old friend. I read the page again. It all becomes dark. I heard the voices like clear instruments in my ears. The characters came to life like a flower just fed with water. The world became vibrant. The greens smelled like a fresh scent of earth. And the whole world blossomed. Just then the pages ahead filled me with joy. Knowing there is more to enjoy.
Thanks for reading! Hope you loved it, if you want more check my instagram or blog. Posting daily on social media and every sunday on my blog.
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Website: Today I Lived