We managed to pull through monotony armed with a very limited vocabulary. It’s a numbing mechanism. The less words we use to describe a feeling, the easier it is to forget it. We communicate by omission.
Sometimes people don’t show they like you, they avoid at all costs the slight suspicion that you may be thinking they think you are doing something right. Sometimes the confronting silence of being disdained by others actually means you are succeeding. Don’t expect many people to be happy for you.
We are always comparing what we are with what we should be: richer, more recognized, more renowned, more erudite, more loving, more artistic, more traveled, younger looking. And in the meantime, we squander hours waiting for more hours, while we dry the sap off our senses and the blood from our veins complaining about the mediocrity of our life.
The stronger ones always win in the end, but they have to endure and suffer the consequences just like everybody else, and in the end of the end, they end up cancelling themselves out and leaving the earth behind them scattered with corpses.
Destroying an idol is not a walk in the park. It takes much longer than the time it took to worship it. But it’s not impossible. The problem is that it may die one day, but the melancholy of it will resuscitate it again the next.
Why is closing a door a problem? Why do we insist being in the same room that’s suffocating us? Our favorite pastime is getting stuck winning. Simply leave the conversation, politely, leave the room, and close the door behind you. And if they follow you, keep closing that door, over and over again, politely, until they get it.
One of the main intentions of the Visual Arts is to educate us to be good lovers, not to shove us in a dusty corner while some shallow people pretend, which is what usually happens instead. Lovers of colors and shapes, lovers of functions, lovers of poetic meanings, and ultimately, lovers of people.