Sometimes, in the lively and dense fog of our lives, small inconsistencies appear.
Short moments when the fog dissipates a little, just enough to see a tiny bit through it.
The reality unveiled beyond the fog brings me to humble, mortal tears.
For a brief moment i was able to catch a glimpse of a bigger picture,
OH, but it is not for human eyes to seize.
If they do endure the sight,
they will quickly retreat to a thicker part of the fog,
where it's more cozy, human and sane,
away from the despair of Ephemeros.
In contrast, if the curiosity is too great, one might risk it's humanity by gazing too long into the gaps of the fog, all the while missing the fun and crazy shapes the fog takes or the colours that shine through at different times of day.
Two specks of dust join each other and decide to deconstruct themselves, both giving a part of them to create a third particle of dust, that is conscious about being a bad speck of dust, even knowing that being this tiny grain is utterly meaningless, it was the product of two bits of dust, therefore this meaningless effort should not go to waste... should it? How long has it been...? ... going to waste for...?
These moments usually have a trigger, today: photographs of my parents when they were young and travelling together... they had a life... how time flew... how much they invested in me... my defects that i can't fix and bring shame only to my inner self and nobody else...
