The Second Thought: A Hole in the Existence

What can a man make of himself that is worth being?

Since H started to sit down on the earth and beneath the never ending clouds, he wished to be seen by the sharp eyes of someone who can see him at his simplest state, at the state of nothingness. Why would state of nothingness be desirable for a man? Since in the world of the things what counts is what you are…

He woke up one day in the middle of the night and saw a deep sorrow sitting on his chest, a sorrow that is so familiar. A sorrow he knew about for ages… but didn’t know how he knew about it. He knew it sneaked into his heart every night and sucked his soul all night to grow and get bigger and disappeared before the dawn. But that night that he woke up suddenly, without even him knowing, so sudden his body was still in a sleep, deep, so sudden his dreams were still in the air, floating… that night he found that sorrow sitting still on his chest like an animal frozen in despair in a net trap.. he saw the sorrow sitting dark and looked at it… staring… it was dark deep burning sorrow, it was unbearable…

He wanted to clear from it and get simpler and simpler until one day he has nothing else to leave behind.. Nothing to do with his clothes, his furniture, his poetry, his questions, but the definitions he has been described with. He wanted to live in the “neither .. nor …” land… Wanted to be nothing like a man has at least once been. Wanted to be something noone has ever been.. Clear, neutral, plain self…

“I wish I could find a pair of eyes that can see who I am.”

His name was “H”. He named himself after a peaceful breeze. He called himself whispering in the breezy nights listening to the soft whistles in the air. He thought “H” is the sound of invisible, sound of the deep breaths and silence.

H doesn’t exist. H doesn’t leave any trace behind, it appears and goes. He heard people resembles their names, so he wanted to be called enough to turn into it. He called himself “H” every night, echoing the breeze, hoping to cease to be who he has been.

Now H is silent and dreamy sitting here, and looking at an idea of a tiny empty space that he thinks has the capacity to create the space.

Maybe after calling himself enough he is now dreaming about a hole. A hole in the existence…

A hole where the things cease to exist.

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