Humans

A Friday, in Paris.
That day i felt something rise in me, something unexpected. So strange so frightening.
What have you become, oh weird merlin? Even more weirdly, why do you type it in a blog? Who knows which blue eyes wilL travel over these words, why not brown ones? Not far away, a cup of warm brown tea, crispy biscuits, an old book, two pens and a bit of paper. Toes burried deep in fluffly slippers, head filled with a phone conversation from the night before.

Friday. Or rather the result of days and days of watching and listening.
Humans. So full of feelings it's almost crazy, unbelievable! With such a storm in their chest, how can they walk and not be crushed by this uproar?
You so much want, need, to love and be loved! Love claws at you like a wildcat, sinks its teeth into you flesh.
Friday, then.
We were walking in Paris, the Poet and me. Oh, we talked of course; usually I don't speak much but that day I spoke a lot. Mainly I talked of pigeons, stones, colours, music and such. And of languages. Nothing surprising here. And then I do not know how, the conversation took an entirely different direction.

It turned to, well, love.

The Poet suddenly was sad, and, horribly a tear welled then tracked down his cheek. Red eyes. I can still see that big round tear.
He had realized that he loved a girl, who used to pester him, and he'd always thought he hated her. He didn't know what to do. Oh well, I wish you luck, Poet. Alas, I'm not a fairy yet.
Before, i've never really believed hatred could turn into love. Or that someone would willingly pester a loved one.
The pain in his eyes was horrible terrible. Tormented by love.
Such is our nature, we humans.
Amen.

Of course there is always pain in hearing the one you're in love with tell you he loves someone else. But the worse was his own torment. And then I realized it didn't matter at all that he didn't love me. That in fact that I didn't want him to. *grins* Think me crazy. I am in love with the world.
The world, a double-edged sword.
The world could be a wonderful place for everybody, oh yes. Why, the wars? Why, the tears? Why, slavery? Why,violence? Why, destructive hatred? Why, take pleasure in harming others? Why, destroy the Earth? Why, bitterness? Why, crush the smiles-to-be on a child's face ? Why, ignore a pigeon because it's 'just' a pigeon ?
WHY. cur. pourquoi. WARUM. por que. perche.
I wish I could speak every language in the world, wish I could understand every storyteller ! Wish I could cure hurts by blowing on fingernails. Wish I could help you soar !

He told me something terrible. He told me that the others at school liked me well enough. Really they did, but they were afraid of talking to me, of entering "my circle", he said. Stunned I was : what circle? We all live in the same world, don't we? And I thought they didn't care at all about me, even despised me. But they were...afraid! Of me!

Too many things for a single Friday afternoon.