To live again

                Alex sped down the highway. He had just got out of work and had only 3 hours to get home and finish the paper that was due tonight. Listening to his favorite song as he drove on the way only reminded him how much he could’ve written in advance had he disconnected from Facebook, tumblr and You Tube at midday. But that was part of life. There’ll always be moments when you fall for it and distract yourself too much, delaying responsibilities. Besides, how could he fall behind his favorite pages and not reblog posts on time? A new article interviewing his favorite band had come out today, how could he miss THAT? Anyways, it wasn’t like he was going to do much progress during that break. He randomly remembered his brothers and frowned as he realized he hadn’t called them in a long time, or even thought about them much. Maybe he wasted too much time…especially on himself. His priorities were college and work, he really didn’t worry about much else, and his free time he’d spend distracting himself with his interests. He had to admit that he was pretty selfish overall, and that maybe he sucked as a sibling or friend.

            His mind away, he changed lanes abruptly. Next thing his car screeched off the road and ended up with its front half dangerously hanging down the steep, rocky slope that was beside the highway. Alex was so shocked and terrified. In seconds, his life had suddenly plunged into grave danger. He didn’t know what to think, sitting motionless with his seatbelt on, panting fearfully: the wrong moves might cause the car to budge free from its place and plummet to the bottom. That was when he heard someone calling out. He turned around carefully to see two men who had pulled up nearby and where telling him to hang on. He didn’t know if he could believe in those words, as death was clearly a small step away. He found himself thinking that he’d give anything at the moment for being with his brothers or his friends, enjoying a nice beer and a warm conversation.

*                       *                       *

It was a miracle. He couldn’t believe he’d made it, standing on the road surrounded by local policemen, the guys who’d helped him, his best friend and seeing the faces of his brothers and parents in front of him as a tow truck pulled his car back from the brink. “We were so worried…” hugs and honest words. Brimming with palpable attention and care. As arrangements were made to patch up the situation, his brothers talked about different plans to cheer him up. “It’s been a long time since we don’t exchange CDs and stuff, I miss doing that”, “let’s hang around more”, “we should go to the beach”, “why don’t we spend a day biking together and later eat ice cream and goof around?” He slowly felt that the days before him seemed fresh and bright. He wasn’t conscious that in the past hour he hadn’t thought even once about his usual preoccupations or interests. He was so focused on the moment, on this good taste of what life really is like.

Times Like These - Foo Fighters

MUSIC LYRICS- O by Coldplay

So fly on, ride through

Maybe one day I’ll fly with you

You know what my favorite part is?  The sound.  The sound you hear when you fly.  The deafening silence of the wind, and leaving the ground behind.  The steady beat of the giant wings, the occasional roar.   The silence.  You go above it all, leave it all behind, and everything becomes so small, so insignificant, so precious.  I’ll never forget that sound.

That is the sound of riding a dragon.  Riding high above the skies, beyond the clouds and seas.  I flew once, on my brother’s dragon.  He’s old enough to have his own, you know?  And I will soon.  Can you imagine?  Flying your own dragon, swooping through the world, seeing it all.  Clad in armor, spear held high, like I’m some kind of hero?!

They say that you have to train hard to tame a dragon.  You have to be strong enough to hold on and keep up, to intimidate them.  But I’m not sure it’s that easy.  I mean, there’s that one time…  My brother and I were much younger, and we found the brightest dragon you could ever imagine, greener than any emerald.  

Next thing you knew, we were up thousands of feet in the sky, holding on to our dear lives, trying not to fall from the dragon. But you should have seen my brother, he looked so calm, like he could know where we would turn and bank next. It’s the most scared I’ve ever been though, I can tell you that much.

I loved that day so much.  I want to fly with him again.

I wonder when he’ll come back?

She.

She danced, she jumped; she fell.

She flew high, made pirouettes and gracefully let herself fall.

She let the wind take her and place her where it wanted.

She wouldn't argue, she promised.

Long ago, she made a promise to flourish from the crowd and she did.

She fell to the river, where she traveled for a while.

She waited patiently, no resistance.

She arrived to the shore, having enjoyed the course.

She dried up, and continued the journey.

She was the most beautiful one yet, making her mother so proud. She lived her life, gracing everything around her. While the world kept turning selfish, cruel and ugly she was there to make everyone see the beauty in it.

She kept floating.

She kept loathing.

She kept routing.

She was approaching.

She arrived to the age which people do not identify as beautiful anymore, but she was the most beautiful of them all; and no young one can ever replace the beauty that in her time she gave to the world.

The story of an ugly strawberry

Once upon a time there was a strawberry that wasn’t as beautiful as the others. She wasn’t bright, or red or juicy. On a strawberry’s age, everyday is equal to three years; so this strawberry was an unattractive teenager at the age of five days. The master and caretaker of these strawberries was an old farmer whose wife had thing for making crêpes, pies and all sorts of desserts for their fat daughters. The ugly strawberry had heard horrible stories about nobody wanting damaged and unattractive strawberries: The thing she feared the most was being unable to fulfill her master’s need, to be useless in the world, and to not fill it with beauty. She was now a sad, ugly strawberry.

            At the age of six days of the strawberries being born, the farmer came to collect them. He put them in a bowl and delivered them to the house. The ugly strawberry saw how her mates were being treated by the farmer’s wife. They were all beautiful and useful, so they were all getting comments like “I’ll serve you as a topping for a cheesecake!” or “So pretty! Linda, try this one!” and she gave it to her daughter. The ugly strawberry was so ashamed. When the moment came, she expected to be thrown to the trash can; instead, the farmer’s wife looked at the ugly strawberry, pressing her eyebrows with an analyzing stare. She put it aside and continued with the other strawberries. When there were only a few left, she took all the imperfect strawberries, cut the damaged parts and put them all in a fruit smashing machine. The ugly strawberry was smashed, yes, but the result was a delicious cocktail of beautiful strawberries altogether. The ugly strawberry was no longer ugly and alone, but she was considered beautiful and she was accompanied by other strawberries that held a purpose in the whole. She now formed part of a beautiful cake that the farmer’s wife secretly made for her husband on their 33th year anniversary. She was now an eaten beautiful strawberry.