Life, grossly overrated, I find.
"Senora Melissi" in "The Mystery of the Blue Train" by Agatha Christie
An unexpected guest, Weltschmerz knocked on my door. He removed his shoes, loosened his tie then slumped heavily on the chair across. It seemed that he'll be my companion for a while, uninvited.
This past week has been hectic yet drudgingly boring. I've driven to
Hours give way to days, weeks to months, years to decades. I am married with children. All of a sudden, they're grown-ups and going to college. Only yesterday I was a weird college kid myself with messed up hair and fucked up brains. Then I held her up in my arms the moment she came to this world. She took her first steps in that home by the sea that is no more. She packed a suitcase and I drove her through a desert road to her new home. I held back my tears long enough so she couldn't see them and sauntered into her empty room. Framed pictures of frozen moments in time stared back at me as if I were a total stranger. "We're still here", pleaded her sister and brother without a sound, "for how long", I wondered wordlessly. On a giant whiteboard, children draw their destinies with impermanent markers, erasing earlier smears left by weary parents. The footsteps we leave behind gradually fade until they totally disappear. Tender caresses under an olive tree, stolen kisses in a squeaky elevator, passionate lovemaking behind closed doors forever dissolve with the setting sun.
جئت للدنيا وحيداً
عجب سر مجيئي
آه من هذي الحياة
بين هذي الكائنات
لهفتي تأكل ذاتي
كيف منها أهرب
(لا أذكر اسم الشاعر)
I often wonder what it's all about. Persistent, I turn to God. I search within for an answer which I know I will never find. I open up to the outside, to eternal words of truth, wisdom and gravity but I get lost further. Clueless, I splash the ice and pour the Scotch. I stare at the amber fluid and nurse its spirit as it mingles with mine. I am all alone after all.