The Curious and Strange Things

It is not so much of a new way to look at them that would matter, but a new way to live with them that would. First of all, you don’t need to understand them. They were made metaphysically, so don’t even bother. What I can tell you is that these phenomena work concurrently. One can’t go without the other, our beings simply wouldn’t live if it was so.

Love is a strange thing. It takes you by surprise.

Loving someone is like moving into a house, At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren’t actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years as the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection, but rather for its imperfections. You get to know all the nooks and crannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when its cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them or exactly how to open the wardrobe doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home.

And time is a curious thing.

Most of us only live for the time that lies right ahead of us. A few days, weeks, years. One of the most painful moments in a person’s life probably comes with the insight that an age has been reached when there is more to look back on than ahead. And when time no longer lies ahead of one, other things have to be lived for. Memories, perhaps. Afternoons in the sun with someone’s hand clutched in one’s own. The fragrance of flowerbeds in fresh bloom. Sundays in a café. Grandchildren, perhaps. One finds a way of living for the sake of someone else’s future.

Sometimes it is difficult to explain why some men suddenly do the things they do.

Sometimes, of course, its because they know they’ll do them sooner or later anyway, and so they may as well just do them now. And sometimes it’s the pure opposite because they realize they should have done them long ago. All people at root are time optimists. We always think there’s enough time to do things with other people. Time to say things to them. And then something happens and then we stand there holding on to words like “if”.

Death is a strange thing.

People live their whole lives as if it does not exist, and yet it’s often one of the great motivations for living. Some of us, in time, become so conscious of it that we live harder, more obstinately, with more fury. Some need its constant presence to even be aware of its antithesis. Others become so preoccupied with it that they go into the waiting room long before it has announced its arrival. We fear it, yet most of us fear more than anything that it may take someone other than ourselves. For the greatest fear of death is always that it will pass us by. And leave us there alone.

Something inside a man goes to pieces when he has to bury the only person who ever understood him. There is no time to heal that sort of wound. Grief is a strange thing.

Youll be told to use time correctly, to love the one who loves you back, and to die happy. As if at some point, man has no control on anything and so has to nonchalantly offer himself the last remaining sweets that life has to offer. Of course no one fully understands love, and definitely time. But we do know death is our ending point so we try to use the ones in between smartly. Humans often call this maturity.

Alas, these are the strange and curious things of life, they aren’t meant to be looked at in different ways but felt in subtle ways that matters.

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