When you talk to people you’re never just talking to them, but what they look like once they’ve hidden a part they don’t want you to look at.
People are never really who they are. They are who they aren’t, as they try hiding behind the ‘I’.
And as you talk to people, you will slowly touch these parts, parts more private than anything on the body.
And as you slowly caress those parts, you will feel a tune floating as if a pianist just put his hands on the piano without realizing he gave birth to a melody.
The tune isn’t supposed to be in an orchestra or concerto but to be felt as an initiation to a conversation that will enthrall the subjects as they float with it.
Offering this to people and watching them enthralled has become a part of my own being.
To see a person open these little windows that were ignored due to the cobwebs. Windows, that allow you to peek through the clouds into seeing the world of a person.
To see their childhood, what frightened them, what exhausted them, what brought them the biggest smile, and what they desperately protected themselves from.
What does it mean to be a human? Who even cares to be a human? All we want is a not, a knot of not’s a chain of negations, a mirage of distractions, something that creates a gap where we can breathe into being human amidst the excess that life breathes itself with.