NEEDLING

A FOOL'S HOPE

I did it. I did it. I turned in my resignation letter. I'm so happy about it. It's as if there's a world of possibilities in front of me. A world of potential adventures. I know, it's the hope of fools... I try not to think about it. I'm simply enjoying the fact that in two weeks from now, I have no clue what I'll do. That in a little more than a month, I'll no longer be in this studio, that I'll give it back to my landlord - after seven years almost! That in front of me there is a big blank, a big black hole, a big lack of future. This feeling right there, right now, right when the decision has been taken and the action to put the decision in action has also been taken and that there is no turning back. I love this moment. It doesn't last long, sure, and eventually reality falls back heavier than a dead elephant. Who cares? This moment is worth all the reality in the form of all the dead elephants falling on my head. It's as if there is in front of me a life... one to be lived... opened up... when one is stuck in material slavery - apartment, job, bank account, money, material responsibilities - then one knows exactly where one is going, how one is going to get old and die... when you give all of it up, even if you know that to survive in our world you'll have to eventually gain all of it back once again, then life in this naked state becomes magic once again. I think possibly that magic only comes from not knowing where the future will take you. Magic comes from having all of your wordly possessions fit into a small back pack. I know... I know... the magic has a tendency to dissipate whenever you have no place to sleep, you have no money in your wallet, your credit cards have been blocked, and it's getting close to night time... I know... but right now it feels good... and I've never claimed to be anything but a fool...