You Know Me Very Well But I Won’t Tell You Who I Am Until The End

You know me very well. I am here for you, I only have one chance to get you back and I will reveal my identity to you at the very end. Answer me sincerely, how long has it been since you looked at the stars ? What does the led light of your cell phone have that the firmaments of the sky do not have?

I’m only trying to reach you in a way,  you who already have some experience in life and who know how to get by halfway behind the scenes of this society full of scarecrows with smartphones. You who are losing the ability to surprise yourself, I am writing to you because, deep down, you know me.

I want you to pay attention to me

Now that you believe yourself in possession of the one truth, yours, and false stability covers your eyes with an advertisement of polarized glasses, you can listen to me. But… why would you listen to me, you who have traveled all over the world and you defend with this English, the one who will never reach the level you want.

If you’ve read  Hopscotch, La Conjuration des imbeciles  and  Hundred Years of Solitude,  if you’ve seen the hundred best cult movies found in a list put together by a guy who said he saw more movies than you and had decision-making power that ‘one could consider universal, if you have already fallen in love and have a Master of leaps in the void, how could I dare to say something to you?

You’ve been speechless so many times…. Your feet have walked so fast in the warm sands of endless beaches, you who save your old dancing shoes for the best festivals in the country. You who already have certain scars that you proudly show to your friends, those which demonstrate your considerable efforts or would serve as proof of bravery in a lawsuit.

I dare to write to you all the same, I dare to tell you things directly because you know me very well, because I am you. Yes, it hurts where you hurt, yes, those scars are mine too. I am the person you have been, the little boy or the little girl who burns inside you and who is trapped in a heap of bones and flesh filled with fears and illusions. Ankylosed by the standards invented by a drunken ancestor of power.

I want you to rejoice again

I want you to look at the starry sky. I want things to be just things and people to get the importance they deserve. I need you to enjoy the little details again,  jump in the puddles and be able to run behind the pigeons like those kids in the park. That you don’t dodge the rain and be able to get wet without fear.

Live today because tomorrow it may be too late. Give yourself time. Share it with the people who deserve it, those who protect you and don’t hurt you. Because life is what: sharing. Do it alone or with someone, but be true to your feelings, don’t lie to yourself. Be consistent.

I greet you therefore, telling you that I love you. Who could love you more than me? Anybody. Think about all the times I have spent with you. I suggest you start with something simple, based on the tenderness that unites us. It could be a water bomb fight, a gravity challenge while skating, or a time when you were just worried about hitting a ball…

Tell yourself that the world is full of people who have hurt you, but others will never do such a thing…  and the former will never be a good example for the latter.