" Why are you asking me all these questions"
"Cause just.."
"Why all the sudden though.."
"Cause I would like to get to know you.."
words blots there as my eyes are full of tears, tears of tired eyes.it's 11.00 p.m. Lying on the bed having tablet by my side, I don't understand my own self. Why am I up? encouraging this conversation?
I think it's a beautiful night out there. Darkness gathering in tree tops and filling every possible space left like secrets in an unspoken mind; there must be a half moon - half sad- half joyful- hanging up somewhere surrounded by twinkling hopes.
What could have happened in a night like this 200 years ago, in the pre-internet pre -facebook age.Were people up till this late? one or two at least, writing letters with love glinting in their eyes maybe?
'are you there .."
200 years ago, were all 24 year olds perfectly capable to figure out themselves; the boundaries, edges, blanks; and to express every bit of it?
This is absolutly funny how one says he wants to get to know another through giga bytes. It's hard, almost impossible.
There are zillions of emotions and feelings; you have to pick the right ones that belong to you. Tthere are tons of words, you have to pick the right ones with the right shape and size;ones that sould suitable and normal.
Forming a sentence, right grammar, right command.Typing it and being brave enough to press the enter button and by that completing the task of : converting a carefully selected emotion in to giga bytes and transmitting to another living human being. 'I have a rain cloud in my heart, it's always a little heavy'
Then, he has to read every word, and with every word a meaning, established in his head, possibly planted by mother? father? kindergarten teachers? Then to combine all the meanings, there he gets an object without a background that no soul understands. Contextualize it! Bravo! not done yet, now the interpreting. ' Is she a heart patient? is she just messing with me'
It's a hard job.
We both get tired, start yawning.Eyes get red.Letters get doubled, in blink of an eye.
" How can I let you to get to know me, when I don't even know who I am really" But Ii don't send it.
This window between you and me, is a trap. You type letters with spaces and send. I type spaces with letters and send you back. Nothing creates any meaning, these are all just like honks of cars. Just noise. Sadly we can go on centuries like this.
This window is better than alchohol. You enjoy absolute freedom here. You don't have to look at the other in eye get a bit scared and gobble your sentence in half. You don't feel shy and a little intimidated by rolled eyes of the other.
No sweaty palms, shaking voice, tingling fingers. Nobody miss looking at Adam's apples move slowly and nervous eyes or how hair slowly hides behind ear with a shy smile.
We crop it all here and try to get to know, to jump in to the main act, cut the crap, save the data. Send me your bio data.
You pass a few honks
' honk honk'
I pass a few. 'honk honk honk'
Then we close our window.
It's 11.00 p.m. It must be beautiful outside. I haven't walked in moonlight with dew under my feet.I hardly know any star constellations. I long to spend many nights far from home looking at stars. I think of history when I look at stars. How life was 100 years ago, or 1000 years ago in a night like this?
Trexes, Mayans, Pharaohs, Victorians, French Rebels; generations, written and unwritten, known and unknown must have tried to to get to know themselves,express it accurately and to look forward for better days. (yes even Ttrexes) It's not easy at all.
The window we have between us, one of us should break it down.
Next time when you say that ' you want to get to know someone', don't peep through a window and say it. If you are brave, say it without words. If they really want, they will find your voice in your deep solitude and in the light of your hopeful scared eyes.
