There are times in one’s life when everything seems a little bit too much. There was this bead inside of me; growing bigger and bigger by each passing day. It was burning me from inside out, and at that given time, all I could do was wonder while I grovelled in pain, with no hope that this pain of mine will ever fade.

I wondered if one day, I will open my eyes and the creature that will greet me on the other side of my bathroom mirror will be some sort of mythical creature that would only look like me. I wondered if that bead will slowly grow so big that I will have no choice, but to transform into the mystical beast. I also wondered how I can be so similar, yet so different to every human that ever lived?

In those times in life, everything around seems so far away, so insignificantly boring.  It makes one wonder; it makes one think.  I thought a lot; I thought why one ever would feel obligated to achieve something great only because it had better tools to begin the race,  and why the hell there was so little appreciation for insignificant ordinariness.

Be extraordinary, be clever, bloom, create, change. Well, perhaps, believe in all of that. Crowds will be moving as they were, the cycle will continue, and none of truth or fiction that you will send to the abyss of the white noise pond will disturb it long enough, for it to change its shape. Some say it changes its shape after hundreds of similar frequencies ripples pass through that abyss. However, I believe it never changes form, and only when the frequency changes in us – we simply settle by a differently coloured pond of noise.

I was eating canned peaches when I realised nobody ever thought me how to be happy; all I was taught was how to sprint.  Like every other person, I knew. That sprint was measured by how deeply we thought we managed to imprint the soil. I never understood that when and I do not understand it now why the depth of those imprints mattered when nobody looked at the sun and smiled and said how warm and wonderful is to be right here and now.

I forgot. I wanted to be made out of steel. I forgot. How much I love rain. And snow. And how little I care about the future. Well, I used to, yet that proofed to be the most useless emotion that I ever encountered.
Finally, after four hours of induced sleep, while people in white coats were trying to determine if the bead inside of me will eventually turn me into the mythical beast, I promised to myself, not to forget to water the plants in my bedroom, as they bring me joy. I have neglected them for long enough. I promised to myself stop pretending and feel obligated to lead a meaningful life, as in the end of it all, – my meaning of meaningful is not about imprints in the soil or how deep they are.

I slept, I slept for days, and when I finally woke up the bead was gone, and I was different much lighter than before, and I looked at the sun and thought how wonderful is to be here and now.

With Love,

Fairy of The North