Hi there, It´s been a while since I last wrote anything. You see, for quite some time, I´ve been on this bitter-sweet roller coaster ride, seeking myself, seeking You, you know… you, the One, the One and only –Yes, I still believe, (unbelievable, no?)
39 in a few days, still seeking love, seeking the foolish, childish dream of a repressed boy –the boy, with cat-like claws, who is tearing me inside out, from the inside, that is, demanding, screaming for you, us, love, (neurosis; check).
So, I´ve been seeking, for so long that seeking makes no sense at all. I have spun myself out of myself… Feeling dizy. Feeling giddy. Excited. Panic-striken. Worried sick. A drama queen stading on the edge, facing everything I want, and the nothingness that is losing it. Pressure mounting. And, right now, so, so in love. But don´t ask me what is love, cause, truth is, I´m not sure I know. Although, I´d like to believe I do.
Thing is, I´ve come to realize that I don´t know much about much. I might be a soup of concepts, dreams, ideals, and theories. But when it comes to concrete reality, this guy is as clueless as can be.
In the vestibule of the ancient Oracle of Delphi, where people entered to get prophetic answers, is an inscription on the wall, ´Gnothi seauton´ -Know thyself. A bit of inside joke, ironic note, like the small print hidden between the lines of a shady contract, ´Know thyself,´ before you can know anything else. An impossible task, for like the river we keep on flowing, changing, being nothing, being everything, going from this to that, both the source and the delta meeting the sea, the tear drop, the lake, the river, the clouds, the oceans, waves, foam, the sound of water dancing, breathing, in you, in me, in everything. We are all of it –How could I ever get my head around that?
So what am I? Supposed to be a man, a real man, although I´m not sure what that might be, (lack of father figure and what not), so I go on improvising, free-styling. Dreaming of commitment. Dreaming of altruism. Dreaming of sacrifice. Dreaming of home. Dreaming of your smile, or at least your eyes, the center of my universe, and I surrendering. Dreaming. Praying.
But the dreamer keeps on screwing up. The dreamer keeps on screwing up. What do they say again…. Practice makes perfect. Yesterday doesn´t define tomorrow. Huh... They could be right, at least I desperately hope so. Dreaming. Praying.
Where am I heading? Looking for you, in a world that is too large, full of dead-ends, of confusing clues, shedding skin as I go, shape-shifting. Wouldn´t it be easier if, borrowing words from the Black-eye-peas, you could meet me half-way? Not that I won´t wait for you. Not that I have a choice in being anything but I am, whomever that might be.
What path am I on? The path of love? Love, or love? Hormonal love? Selfish love? Unflexible love? Conditional love? Or, to die for you love? To understand you love? To accept you as you are love? No matter what the outcome is love? Or, Love for everything and every one? Detached love? Staying clean love? The spiritual-highway of Love? What good is spirituality if it divides us, pulls us away from unity, while promising the exact opposite? What good is love if it´s just about me?
What path am I on? The path of truth and only the truth, the truth always and forever… Sounds and feels, from experience, like social suicide. How many of us can handle the truth, the weakness of it, the neediness of it, the ugliness of it? Truth is the best way to keep people at bay. Side-thought, I´m such a loner –go figure.
Supposed to have a plan; ha! Shiva dancing is more like it. Creating me to always kill me, undo me. From ashes to ashes. Over and over. What I was last year, let alone, a decade ago, is so far from what I am now. Did I change by choice? Does any one? How could I, or anyone else ever make a promise? When I go on changing. Changing. When I never know what I will be. Yet, I´m dreaming. Yet, I am praying. I want to believe. Dreaming. Praying.
How long has it been? Where was I? Who was I? Not sure that it matters. Time goes on running its course. If I hurt anyone, and I am certain I did, please, if you can, forgive. Peace.
I am no way perfect, never claimed I was. Peace.
Just learning, trying to dance, life, and I´m awfully clumsy at time. Peace.
Anyway, why am I babbling? If anyone cares to know... Well, it´s that a few days ago, while planning a life of complete detachment, spiritual maturity, and all that inflated rubbish- unexpectedly, in Barcelona of all places, I, this Karim Fadali whose narcistic monolog you might be reading for reasons unknow to me, fell in love.
Yes, I fell in love, in less than a second, in less than a thought, going from 0 to 240 mile per hour, lost my mind kind of free-falling, from Babylon´s highest roof -108th floor. Not sure what´s happening. Not sure if, like the feline that dwells in me, I can land gracefully on my two feet. Life is complicated. Pure adrenaline. Pure confusion. Nothing is clear. And yet, I can´t feel otherwise. Mine is a revolution. Rationality has been dicapitated. Vive la revolution! The mind is freaking out. The heart, pissed drunk, sings: Life is magic happening. Life is a miracle, and miracles can be so frightening, so painful, so disorienting. Hic(a drunk´s hiccup)!
I am the king of fools, ressucitated. Yet, I take responsability for my choices. This is my trip, my ship, my Titanic, I´m in command, whatever may come. Iceberg or not. Happy endings or not. Avanti! E viva l´amore!
I wish you all wonderfuly rich lives. Live yours, or at least try; no one else can do it for you. Love, or at least be kind on yourselves -I, on my side, am trying. I suspect it´s all I can do. It´s all we can do.
This is the news. This is the babble. Peace to all. Love to all. Healing to all.
Falling, falling… an open book.
