Conversations
with self ( Tapfuma and Cloud walker)
“Why do you write?”
“Well … Once upon
a time I looked in a mirror and I saw an empty soul, I opened a book and saw a
blank page, and I thought to myself what a waste? So I wrote in this book to
make it feel better maybe to make myself feel better I wrote”
“What did you write?”
“(laughing to self) just things that came to
me, anything really just trying to fill up the pages as I wrote the page felt a
bit un comfortable it wasn’t used to being written in if you could understand,
mostly my fault spelling mistakes and grammatical error, lifes errors here and
there but I understood what was written and there was love, but yeah slowly the
paged started to fill up”.
“What about the
soul..?”
“What about it?”
“Did it fill up as you
wrote?”
(Looking away and around as if searching for
an answer in the ether unsure). “I am not sure but…. I know that there are tears not worth crying
and the soul knew this well ...the soul wasn’t lonely but it never hesitated to
ask company to stay even thou most of the time it felt something’s where better
not said so there was silence, often it would asked it’s shadows, reflections
and traces left by the ink of writing on the a page if it could be filled and
what the point of it all was? Often the answer was... do you really want to know would it matter...
should it matter...and then there was silence and that’s about it...about the
soul”,
“ and the page?”
“What about the
page?”
“What did the page say?”
“Not much really
that was its nature ...(taking time to
think) …to say a lot without saying much
at all…a lot of people read and passed
judgement some learnt some laughed
others mocked .. .. .. As for the page it just did what it did best...
all it new how to do... be a page... umm why what did you want the page to say?”
“You have a point? Where the page and the soul one in the same?”...
“(looking up at
the sky again) maybe ... no... Not at all...very
alike, but no not one in the same, like the hand of two lovers when they hold they
are one but they are not, maybe they belong at least they have a sense of
belonging and company” …
“You’re
complicated”,
“Not really my simplicity tends to fool most
but I cannot apologise on her behalf”.
“(Frustrated)
what do you write?”
“ the wind doesn’t know why it fills the sail , finger don’t know why
they want to touch hot or cold but they do know they want to feel despite the
consequence , the lost want to be found even when they give up hope , hate
needs to hate it has no exact aim but it hates”
“... (Annoyed) what’s does
that have to do with what you write”.
“Nothing really I
thought that sounded good, (winking) hidden truths and you missed it again
(laughing to himself)”,
“And then?”...
“And then there
was JUST IS”.
“Which is?”
“It just is
that’s why I write I guess that’s the answer to your question”
“That’s like
asking why and replying why not.”
“No it isn’t it just is”, “Expand...umm?”
“I know of Mr God
and god knows me I have no answer accept it just is (with a smile) why do your
ears listen, but in this case don’t listen?”
“umm good question?”.
I stop talking to myself we laugh… yeah we
laugh... indeed we do.
No comments:
Post a Comment