The unspoken words

Black dot in a white wall

    The hardest part is writing about your feelings. To write down everything that never came out of your soul. Spray white pages with black ink. I stare at the white wall in front of me. He is perfect. White, without any stains. But the more I look at it and stare at it, the more I realize that my senses have lied to me again. I see that there is a small black dot that stands on it and does not move. I rub my eyes, thinking that it will disappear. But no, it's not the fruit of my imagination, it's standing there. Like an ozone hole in space. The more I see her, the more I am aware of her presence there.

    I realize that in the tulip valley, there is a cactus that is slowly crawling up into the sky and growing. That in the abundance of perfection, where apparently all the water flows into the same ocean, yet there is a tributary of the river which neither flows into the river itself, nor reaches the ocean which is the ultimate goal. It exists and is a goal in itself and stands out on the map where everything is arranged and there is no going beyond the borders. You slowly realize that nothing is as it seems and that absoluteness does not exist. That there is an exception to every rule. There is nothing that exists forever. Eternity does not exist, and even if it did, we realize that there is still no place for us. Slowly, but surely I realize that the black spot has been on that damn white wall since I became aware of it. I realize that the whiteness I have always seen was just a façade that stood to obscure the face of the imperfect. Mask with which I wanted to hide the broken face of the porcelain doll. The doll that always stood smiling on the shelf long forgotten and full of dust. And so I realize that I will move the same doll in vain. No matter how much I do it, the dust on the shelf will not go away.

    Agony, rage begin to come out, colliding with the fact that the tower of cards has collapsed. It is impossible to climb the same tower, knowing that with each step you take, the cards fall down. And with each step up, you automatically go back one step, just like Sisyphus. What is the purpose of climbing the rock to the top of the hill, if you know that with each climb, it will fall to the bottom, and you will have to climb it again?