Simplicity

Today her means of survival was to be simple,
to be a human being uncomplicated and
easy-going of mind.

It had been a sheer practical decision,
no inner impulses, no intense emotional drive.
She was going to structure the chaos -
And organize her life as if counting to ten.

The strategy was easy: her work load had to be
doubled and her meals would never anymore
be taken-out.  She was going to dig the earth and
dirty her nails, peel the potatoes and rub
the floor. She was going to throw herself
in the world of hard labeur and
thoughtless existence.

That evening around 11.30 pm she finished doing
the dishes from her 3-course meal. For some
vague reason she had invited the big family
living opposite her in the street. They had
brought their 4 kids of which she was now
seeing the result in her living room.

She knelt down and started rubbing
the carpet to remove the orange juice stains
and specks of bolognaise sauce. When she
lifted her head, her eye fell on the extensive
to-do list she had pinned on her fridge,
with the deadline coming up very soon.

She and her sister had always held firm
belief in extensive enumerations of
useful chores to do.

An extreme fatigue fell upon her,
her limbs felt stretched and ravaged,
but she knew: now was the time,
the time to keep up and
continue being focused on the tiny little
light that she had detected inside her brain-
like a hard rock, unmovable and brave.

Slowly she got up and conscientiously she
started implementing the first item from the fridge.

In the early morning -somewhere between the
dark hours of the night and dawn- she woke up on
the barren kitchen floor, fallen asleep with seven
more jobs waiting for her.

She lay still a little while, looking at her shiny
cupboards and her clean house.

She was happy.
She had slept as on a bed of roses,
and hadn't wasted a second on any
useless   e n d l e s s
thought.

The Cave

It was as a silent pact between us:
our visits to this place could never be revealed to the outside world.
They did not fit the image we had created of ourselves and
they would by all means ruin the solid identity we had projected
so consistently into the atmosphere:
pure, cool, fearless and anarchistic.

We regularly came here almost incognito,
enjoying the world of Santa Claus and fairy tales,
forgetting the intensity of our raw and so-called uncompromising life.
The shiny Christmas theme cups were smiling at us from
the wooden shelves and the big leather couches made us forget
our deeply rooted melancholy for the few precious minutes
that were about to come.

On top of that we had coffee.
Strong coffee in big cosy mugs so we could warm our icy hands
during our much needed first-aid conversation. My sister was
sitting opposite me and she had pulled out the big guns:
in front of her was standing a Cinnamon Dolce Latte.

"So, what's up?" I started in an attempt to stir up the glossy air
that surrounded us. The café was full of people and there were
urgent conversations going on in every dark corner of the cave.
"Lately I feel as if I am in a rud", she said, "you know, the mud pool"
and immediately she took a generous spoon of the whipped cream
that topped her drink.

I looked around and suddenly realized how places like this were
a cover-up for the feeling she was now trying to bring to the surface:
The intangible doubt. 

"To solve this I will go cycling through the US national parks for three
months", she continued. "But I need a companion, you know,
for the bears".

The bears. Real animals. I now realized how deep the rud actually
was- and how we were used to fix every problem on our path.
Also the unsolvable ones.

But at least the problem was different now. 
Usually we were overwhelmed by the violent rhythm of obligations
and pushy idealistic causes we had committed ourselves too.
And here, in the presence of sparks and colours, warmth and
cheap music we had for so long stretched ourselves to
be able to bear that life.
At least, until now.
Suddenly the running seemed so idle
and our purposes so unclear.

I guess that is what one calls: making progress.

"That sounds like a good plan", I finally said.
"We are pure, cool, fearless and anarchistic
after all".

We both took our jackets and went outside
into the cold air and
crispy sun.