We all have expectations to be fulfilled. We all want to be happy. And feel it’s comfortable state of mind. Yet it never seems to be there. It’s never enough. We are not quite ready.
Moo Pak, once again, hit a key that set the motion to come back here and write again. Just to find the sense of finding the perfect stranger, in those words, in those walks, in those shoes. And in a conversation with that person that listens to this flow of free speech, in the greater sense, the things that come out when you are bursting out what’s in your head, through the influece of literature, music, culture, and thus giving birth to a certain thought, a certain idea, a thesis of some kind. Oh, that’s a great place to be. Oh, what great literature.
Yet, the sensation at this very moment of the book is that of Kafka’s walking around Prague feeling overwhelmed with the extra energy the summer brings, too much that his legs feel too long, and his arms swing about, those to bigger that their usual size, not finding harmony with this newly adquired power. That’s about the same situation young minds feel when the have that sucking the marrow out of life but not quite finding the purpose, or the words to express what they feel; what they are living. And as life goes on, the right words come to life, yet the energy is no longer there. The paradox in living.
The letter, he said, sums up not only everything that Kafka’s life and writings are about but the situation in which we all find ourselves in the two centuries since the French Revolution, when we feel that everything is possible but that there is no way of knowing what to do or how to do it.
Moo Pak. Gabriel Josipovici
And then he goes about the fact that a regular guy from Corsega becomes an emperor. In the modern way of just wanting to will get you there, and all you need to do is desire it long enough to see it happen, when in the majority of cases, all you find is frustration of those dreams being overwelmhed by the personal circumstances that somehow you turn the pointing finger at your favorite scape goats: the world conspiring against you, wether bad luck or the machination of others.
Josipovici is right. Most of us, this is what we get. A taste of failure. And yet, a few get the taste of devouring their ticked to ride the big wave. And the stay there, and we look, and the scene is absurd, as the simpler way in which our lives would be fulfilled is quietly being ignored by the very same seduction coming from swift melodies of nyphms and or flashing lifestyles of influencers. Capitalism brings us here: to stare at the screen to see the lives of those who pretend to have achieved that happiness and fulfilment.
But from which direction is that fulfilment and happiness to come? What do I have to do to achieve it? I am ready and willing to do anything, and I have the energy and determination to carry through whatever I set my mind to -but how to start? What direction to take? Where to plant my feet for the first big shove?
Well, that’s exactly how I feel. Or rather, that’s exactly how I’ve felt, for a long time, in the pursuit of the starting line, ahead, as I see it in the horizon, but when get there the silly line has moved farther away. It’s this continuos scape that keeps me here, figuring out how flow beyond this realm.
Somehow I feel I’ve already departed. I’m ready to flow. And to reach out to the world. As the world, too, is tired of waiting. So here I come. Ready or not.