Random Summer Thoughts

It’s late in the summer and as the hot season draws to a close, it’s time to tidy up the corners of the mind before a new season begins. Call it seasonal thinking, but my summer shelf is ready to welcome all the events that populated these past few months. It’s been a steady-paced time, with sluggish days, rainy days, moody days, happy days, just ok days. I’ve been no more no less than myself and under this constancy I lent myself to living the days, but most of the time I just let the day live through to me, that is when I didn’t feel the day; it’s a strange the thing that happens, when one doesn’t live the day, that’s when the day grows wings and traps one in a whirl and one’s left with no other choice than drifting away through the daily draft. Those were the noisy, but lonesome days. I personally give little appreciation to huge meaningless gatherings that most of the time lack authenticity, because attendants tend to become slaves of convention. And when convention prevails, that type of basic honesty slowly fades, conversations become awfully predictable – one could picture them prior to the event itself – so that the actual event feels like an enactment of overused lines in endless rehearsals that history keeps such incredible accurate unwritten records of. And it’s the unwritten script that survives the best, despite the opposite common belief held true by Romans –Verba volent scripta manent. I really think it survives best, because proof is in right there, in front of our eyes. Why say the grass is still green on the other side when brown shades gently find their way in as if an invisible painter cast his magic over nature at night.  But it’s almost fall and it’s all I tend to digress a lot, as you can see, but it’s alright the chaos in my mind is nothing but an indicator of my spontaneity, I might start with something that I think it interests me, but then again how do I know what it really does until I actually start? There you go, I could even find the perfect excuse for a perfectly rambling post.    

Lines. Fine Lines

by Sorin Oprisor

We need lines. We really do. Whether it's for crossing the street or to drive in the right lane. Those are the visible lines. Then there is another category of lines that stems from human relationships. Those qualify as invisible lines, or to avoid the temptation of opposites, less visible lines. The good vs. evil dichotomy might be the first situation crossing your mind but I've grown to learn that the world out there comes in more than just black and white. It comes in shades too. And as soon as you reach that area you come to realize that the afore mentioned opposition kind of falls to pieces. There will be the ones claiming to have that marvelous quality of discerning right from wrong and then there's others like me, that feel at a loss in front of matters of the kind. Call it caution, call it indecision, but I'm not here to be the one crossing a line. 

As soon as one crosses a line, things are sort of forever settled and I'm unsure if a growing patterning confidence is deeply seated in reality. Or maybe in the personal reality of the person we've already "framed". Humans are flawed beings and it is in this state of things that lies the desire to ardently set boundaries, put a seal on a "case", which ultimately situates the "framed" in an extreme. But what the "framee" fails to record is that in-between state of the person from the initial moment of their evaluation to the last one.

We fail to see the humanity laying so nakedly in the other; when it's our own nakedness speaking about wavering, tribulating feelings of infinite maybes whose temporary existence never did we managed to perceive. Any attitude, behavior comes as the result of a lengthy process, an evolution entailing an innumerous number of changes that we are most certainly blind to. So instead of wrenching your soul over apparently disturbing realities that others bring upon us, give that reality the benefit of the doubt for that inaccessible shady area before deciding to swiftly categorize. The unknown shading of that segment holds the truth and keeps it to itself in a disdainfully undisclosing manner. But it's the privacy of the being that it protects and I can't find a fine line to put my finger on.  And I probably shouldn't anyway.