Living two lives

I live in two worlds – the real one and the one in my head. At least I thought so until a while ago. The real one is in my home town. Each day I commute to get where I have to be. I walk on the streets, I take the buss or tram. Everywhere I see people. Crowd. They seldom look at me and more rarely they even see me. And those who see me look so surprised that I get surprised too. One day I figured out this issue – they are surprised to see me smile – this city never smiles. It was a sad day when I discovered that. I have a hemorrhage of life, I feel I’ll burst sometimes with joy and I can hardly keep my face serious. Around me I see only minds gone after unknown deep problems, empty eyes having as horizon just the asphalt. When some of them get out of this trance, it’s only to cry, swear or curse someone or something.

This is the real world, the palpable one. I can touch it, hear it and god, smell it! The other one is a world full of life, of alert people, smiling back to you, talking to you, helping you if you stay in their way and not throwing bad words at you. A world where loosing a second from your life is far less important than being polite and wait for an old person to cross the street. A world where doing something good for a total stranger is a joy and not a burden. A world where you won’t consider him a lunatic because he helped you but your brother, and so you’ll say “thanks brother!”. Even you never saw him before and even you are certain that you’ll never see him again. For a long time I thought this is my Utopia, I thought I’m slipping into a neurotic fantasy but I discovered that this world still exits. I just came from there. I’m here but my soul remained there.



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