Umami Minefields
We have to carry our Hell like a purse, put it on display like it's High Fashion. Don't be proud, just acknowledge it. Like the beating of your heart and the guarantee of its eventual ending.
Cold Cake. Hot Hearts. Dare to dream again. Life will always be brutal and despite the brutality we'll possibly encounter beauty.
The beauty of existence though is not our savior; the one who feels deeply knows:
The beauty of existence evokes its own brutality.
My heart is calm when I see a dead bird on the side of the street - but it breaks everyday, unstoppably, when I hear the jackdaws cawing on top of the birches; always announcing autumn, no matter the season.
Those constant miracles shine their light on the abyss, it's simple, the simplest:
The red, heart-shaped flower of Anthuriums turns the concrete pavement into a minefield of melancholy.
But that is just a glimpse.
The darkness that exists within us, within this universe, goes way beyond that. There's not a single doubt that Hell is a place on earth. It's an area somewhere behind our eyes that we can never get rid of.
To caw with the jackdaws we have to lick our tears and taste them like they're a spice. Umami.
To appreciate the solacing impression of the Flamingo Flower, we have to accept that in comparison to its allure, the city's dominant Greyness will rip our skin apart while we're looking at it.
We have to carry our Hell like a purse, put it on display like it's High Fashion. Don't be proud, just acknowledge it. Like the beating of your heart and the guarantee of its eventual ending.
Everything we do consists of pain and that is by design. Happiness as a state of being is not real, because it mainly focuses on the positive. But the ability to enjoy, to experience enjoyment with a certain openness, doesn't exclude the Bad.
The abyss can never be excluded. Otherwise, we will fall.
Let's walk through the minefield.