FLASH
Shkruar nga Dijana Toska
In a world that is turning off every day, a cigarette, a quiet thought, and a little elegance are my form of resistance...
It is not tragic that a smoke follows you your whole life, but that there is so much smoke in people's souls that they smile today, and sell you tomorrow. This is one of those dilemmas that I have constantly thought about between the puffs of cigarette smoke, asking myself how is it possible!?
There is something magical about the moment when the cigarette is lit and everything else is silent. That is where my focus begins on the chaos and noise of the world around you, which you cannot stop, but can cope with. And, like a little lie at the tips of your fingers, it is there like hellish poison, real, tangible, killing you before your eyes, but not behind your back.
It at least ignites a thought, an idea, an emotion, while others out there try to turn everything off.
I sought friends as medicine for the soul. Those from childhood that I loved were closer, some others that I respected had other problems, while from these others I learned that a filtered smile was the worst poison, that could embrace and wound you at the same time.
A black smoke that the wind was bringing over our heads, was approaching to compete with the clean air of the earth. Its opposition left no value without degrading, lying and deceiving, stealing and threatening, killing and ugliness in the name of something sacred. It was catapulted, usurping the life of a society!
In that fog, the cigarette was there, faithful, harmful, yes, but honest. It didn't judge me, it didn't deceive me, it didn't violate my independence. It helped me learn the price we had to pay to defend the freedom and dignity of the nation.
I loved the smoke of my cigarette more and more. It gave me a sense of security, of sincerity. It was a righteous enemy in the face of the dishonest relationships that people had begun to build, starting with power, to intimacy.
Today, when this honest smoke helps me silence the pain, I ask myself: who stole the most beautiful years of my life? The poison of love, or the disguised poisons of everyday life that, through sweet words, silently kill the fragility of being human?
45 years passed with this love of lips, and almost as many years of career in search of something dignified that would kiss my soul.
And age comes. With it, wisdom. You no longer miss people. Choose solitude and peace. Give yourself a little kiss at the end of the day, from those that the soul knows well. Live simply to make the world more beautiful around you.
Raise the white flag, rebuild your clean chimney, and your little kingdom with the holy trinity: smoke, coffee, books. Now even the cigarette smoke is softer, the coffee has acquired a different taste, the books waiting speechless in line to be read. And sometimes, a glass of brandy, a little music and a crossword puzzle to not forget, that life is still here, with all its mystery, to bring you faith, peace, sensitivity and love.
It is true that cigarettes damage the lungs.
But, is there anyone who hasn't paid the price for a relationship?
In a world that is turning off every day, a cigarette, a quiet thought, and a little elegance are my form of resistance./ Pamphlet
Lini një Përgjigje