The life and struggle of a Gorillachimp

…what is time? What forces drives this measure to give it its outmost importance in this modern world? We have too little, we have too much… Why? Is it because we attach our hearts to it? Our most inner beings? Our souls? Why is time so short when happiness rules our hearts and seems so endless when it realms by desperation? How do we stop time?  How do we make it last forever? How do we find a way to cope with time, to make it leap forward to a better place or return backwards to the beginning of our first smile?

I watch the clock as the second hand tics slower and slower…  one second at the time… one after the other. My heart rate slows down to its pace and every heartbeat feel like an eternity longing for the blessing of a mere lifetime. There is no time, there is no space… only the pain and the illusion of a dream, beating like a living organism, twisting itself to an unrecognizable shape, devastating all future hopes. Still in the midst of it all, an unfledged and fragile light defies the storm and refuses to die. The very light that makes time fly, that turns hours in to seconds and transform an ocean of suffering to one single tear… it’s there… pale, flickering… but it’s there. Maybe one day it will grow to become the lighthouse that keep me from perishing against the rugged shores of this ocean of despair I’m drowning in. Until then I’ll keep waiting… in the dark… seeking spiritual relief in the solid comfort of liquid despair not fearing the darkness, only the silence that accompanies it.

…sometimes trying to describe beautiful colors and glorious shapes. It started when I was around 10 years old when I realized something that stayed true even to this day. People are like vaults, each and everyone with its own combination to their most hidden and precious  treasures. Some have short and simple combinations, some complex and endless ones but never the less, they all have one. But their combinations does not consist of numbers but as of simple words. Words put together in a specific pattern – the right word in its specific place at the specific time.

I’ve tried to master this craft as I believe sharing amongst the living things on this planet can only lead to a greater good. But the colors I describe now a days are but a humble attempt to a description. How do you describe a color? My palette has narrowed down to only two colors – black and white and my words are merely an outline, a shape, a skeleton of something that I can’t describe anymore… and my vault is shutting closed with every heartbeat. My very own combination is getting more and more complex and soon, as it falls in to oblivion, the lights go down and I realize I can’t be saved.

If you were my canvas, I’ll paint you with beautiful words and color you with desire and dreams.

…that’s how I saw myself for a long time. The more I got pushed, the more I fought back to reach my full extension. And yes, life has pushed me more than once and every time I somehow manage to came back stronger and wiser, turning the bad to something good.  Now, I’m but a slinky… a small push down the stairs and the motion itself keeps me going to the bottom floor where I sit as I lay. How do I brake the fall? How do I find the strength to push back? If I knew, this blog would be about beautiful flowers, furry little animals and happy thoughts… but as you see, it is not.

I know I don’t have all the right answers… but I sure as hell would like to think I have all the right questions.

…be sure to throw them really hard at the son of a bitch that crossed you – then you make the lemonade… And if the fucker is still conscious, offer some in good spirit.