Looking back at the girl I was some ten, fifteen years ago, I can’t help but feel slight envy at her lightheartedness. Life wasn’t much different then, not in the things that matter, yet she lived it in a happy-go-lucky way, untouched by the world around her.

Life is not much different now, not in the things that matter, yet I seem to take the world too personally, and let it get to me in most every way. The only difference between her and me is the consciousness I’ve accumulated over the past decade.

Consciousness is a heavy curse for those of us who haven’t mastered the art of channeling it positively. In rare moments of lucidity, I see that the only modus operandi lies in aiming to achieve and maintain the state of constant fluency. But that’s easier said than done. Why is it that the unbearably simple things are always so simply unbearable?

Perversely, in those rare moments of lucidity, I see that the amalgamation of light and dark is so intrinsic in every aspect of life, that any effort to dismantle the two would be both foolish and futile. Yet, I’ve been known to insist. (Why…oh, why…?)

Fluency. Fluency. Fluency.

A great word, worthy of meditation.


Gone with the wind – Photography by Hetty Mellink

Alien, alienated. That's me.

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