Unsupportable Truthfulness

Details of the Garden of Earthly Delights, by El Bosco 

"New year in the same world. The fears remains after few hours of parties, days of love and some night for pleasure and nostalgia. Alone, the human in a Sunday night keep his trepidations against any hope.  That is the particular vicissitude of the man, a simple being trapped in a constant pression between his dreams and the reality.  Searching almost the words to explain what about those thoughts in moments with the envy seems to beat everyone of the habitants who read the eyes and the tears in pages of life while the ignorants sleep happy this night.  In fact, people loves the lie and the lier. The truth is frustrating, a frustration that makes the person who brings it unbearable. (He is too naive if he gives it). His permanent, penetrating and calm gaze, like his words, must be interrupted. Constantly. The lie is sweet, intimate, necessary for the human happiness.  The insupportable does not keep great friends.

Alone, it is possible to imagine the other results of the silence. In a strange eagerness,  a person explains the facts. However, facts are not important when the popular imaginary has created an other truthfulness. In a conversation, for years, the silence is the best answer for any question. Or for none. Silence allows to remains the tales about the love, passion and not love and simple pleasure. In any case, the problem is not the fault - he said - the problem was that the truth now is public. So, it is not magic or complicated. Actually, the decisions are for pleasure or survival. Sometimes for ambition and in a rare occasion for real love. Pleasure before friendship. The proper convenient justifications are sufficient against the simple and cruel truth. And that's why it's so annoying.

Second Sunday of this year, and after the other explanations some people recreates love (reality is pleasure).  May be is part of the hope. The possibility to see in to the eyes with the conviction that there are not secrets and the fear, yes, are shared. Share is a rare word used conveniently when the time is not important, only the action to reach a simple goal. Yes, this night the words are not the ideas to build an human belief, a faith, however the inspiration of the other times. Inspiration against the new year and the charges of the other years in the past. The burdens that make it difficult to walk in the new year with a creed. They are part of the awful truth in the astonishing times when the human kind keep alive from the intimate and individual being to all the civilisation.

It is not sure that the convenience for a little of them are the better for all. And same, for almost one different. It feels bad to be discovered, not by the act. The act was pleasure, their lips, their sex and their smile. And the other? It is love or loyalty? At night, the human thinks about their insupportable fragility and the past that is present feeding their fears. About the foolishness and the hope to receive something amazing for him. Without any possibility to arrogance, the human awake the on Sunday night thinks about the power of the silence. And how the juggle makes happy to the others. But, he is not part of the others. As the messenger of truth, he discovers the unbearable that he is himself. And he understands why it is better to rest in ignorance and sleep. 

But, the silence and the cold breeze breaks the silence with a distant song and a little smile compites against the brightness of a distant star.  In a far away time - he thinks - the love are sufficient to be part of the non convenient justifications. Real was magic, in truth without any shame. And the fear is just a word that appears when we are not together. However, in solitude, in a non-recognize of the other, the consequences are predictable. Pleasure over happiness. Convenient justification to not interrupt the times of the ego.  These times."