Is it called an hour that place where the rule belongs to a limbo in which half and half varies deliberately depending on the mouth that shouts the missive?
It sounded senseless in my train of thought, but I’ll never forget the spark of wonder that could be seen in the tramp sitting next to me. Is it lunch or breakfast? take a fucking guess, that’s what I said when formulating the answer seemed impossible to me, an assertion filled with distress.
Notwithstanding my mind ran relentlessly in circles, at that very moment the answer came to me. Just like that first glance at the bride walking towards the altar on that day. Without skipping a beat my troubled mind realized that the truth behind a stupid tradition didn’t lie in a cultural asset or common denomination, but rather pure inspiration and confidence to give it a personal meaning in the reflection. It felt as if I was playing chess with myself and I had just found the checkmate, the winning move.
Who would’ve thought that my foggy thoughts could’ve been able to bring clarity upon an issue in such conflictive times?
For a second I forgot about all of those concerns that fill my time with unnecessary overthinking and it didn’t matter how insignificant the matter that I solved was, for a brief moment, not only did I figure out the social encounter, but also came to figure out myself again. For a microscopic portion of an instant, I felt like I could be again.
Honestly, that moment filled me with hope… maybe that’s what all of this is about. The slow and undeniable decomposition that had been making me disappear as a person had ceased for a second.
Ironically, now the brunch that I rejected so harshly will be kept in a special corner of my head. Perhaps I’ll even start having brunch every now and then.
Will it be in the late morning or the early afternoon? truth is, it’d be a waste to even plan that because it will obviously depend on my mood and there’s nothing more irregular than that.
Conceivably, most of my displays could be designed at brunch, mainly because if it created hope out of nowhere, maybe it could be the origin of that something meaningful I talk about so often. For all one knows, it could even ☥ open my eyes…
War FairyTales 