All seem like obstacles to the flow of things...
I have some free time on my hands. I err daily. I think a lot and observe everything and everyone around me.I am part of nothing and nothing is part of me...
I feel like an alien, strolling aimlessly...floating freely on the surface of things...
I walked into a small stationery shop. I needed a writing pad. I had to have a writing pad. The shopkeeper pointed his finger to one set of shelves.
" You'll find them over there. " he said.
I approached the pile with reverence. Chosing a writing pad for me is akin to a meticulous ritual. The shopkeeper was getting impatient.
" What's the matter, can't you find anything to your liking? "
"No, no, just give me more time. " I replied, changing my accent...
There was one with a Barbie cover. Ludicrous. And another one with a Mad Max look alike cover. Ridiculous. And one with Roses - Oh God. Not Roses again! Too sentimental.
I finally settled for the weirdest looking one. A pad with the cover of a fossilized skeleton of a fish.
I walked back towards the shopkeeper wanting to pay.
" All this time and this is what you chose. A dead fish ? " He said with irony.
" Yes, all this time and nothing but a dead fish. How much? "
I carry this notepad with me everywhere I go. Everytime I misplace it, I am overtaken by a sense of panic until I find it again...
So far, this pad is empty, except for a few scribbled pages... So why this attachement?
I remember that for those who are Born Again, they have bumper stickers on their cars with the sign of a fish. The fish as a symbol of Eternal Life.
It grieves me that my sticker is that of a fossilized skeleton, of a dead fish.
But then, how can it be otherwise ?
One million dead fish freely floating, so a few can be born again and again...
Painting : Iraqi female artist, Sawsan Al-Sarraf." UnderWater "