Life is too short for boring stories

That life has its prescriptions and its rhythm, I had already understood early. Everything has its beginning and its end. You are born, live a while, and then you die. This is just the way it is and is not remarkable. What is most remarkable is the fact that the whole span of life lies between knowledge and understanding and actual understanding. For the realization and the realization of a knowing and a knowing into a life, filling and fulfilling it are two different things, and they must be, for never can one know what and who one is, in the section in which one is not yet. When you start life is like a wide open field, which is limited with choices. This limitation also has its advantages. It helps me concentrate, helps me to stay.

I conclude the training and enter the professional life. I am working, fulfilling tasks and limiting myself to my work so that I can fulfill them. I found a family. Partners, children. The children are small and needy. I limit myself to being used and concentrate on being there and caring for someone. The type of used will change until they leave the house. I know it, and I know that the day is coming, that they let me out of my confines by taking their lives into their own hands. I do not have to focus on them anymore. A new freedom that I knew would come, but I do not believe it until it is there.


I am in freedom. The limits are broken. Will I go back into a limit? Or will I remain in this freedom? But what will happen to me in this freedom? Then I remember the dreams I had, then, which I could not implement and with the years went more and more in the background. It was not the time and not the place for it. Gentle, I reveal them. Again. Take them out and look at them, check carefully whether they are still worth the fulfillment. Some turn out to be mere illusions. Others are simply overhauled, or I cannot recall what ever dreamed of it. But because I plain do not remember, I pack them again. For later. So only the one remains, which is now inserted.


There is no one I ask for permission, which I should have to explain, except myself – and I ask you whether you want to share this dream, or its redemption with me. Whether my dream overlaps with yours far enough to have it in common. And because you affirm this, we set off.


While I think that, my gaze lies in the distance and my naked feet lie in the wet sand. Some waves penetrate them far enough to rinse my feet and rinse the sand, so I sink a little. The water is cool, but the sun is still warm. Even in autumn. Even on the Atlantic coast. Without words you sit with me. When our eyes find themselves, we give ourselves a smile. Consent, at this moment, without words. One also learns to recognize and appreciate silence as eloquent. At least in autumn.


“It is good to be able to complete,” I say abruptly when the time of silence has been fulfilled.

“It is good to be there,” you replied, and I am no longer surprised that you understand me, because otherwise our dreams would not have been overlapping and we would not be here, “Home is where you are not lost.”


I look at you and know that it is good. Who knows how long I can still do that. It also does nothing to the point, only that one understands appreciative. This moment. You only learn this in autumn or never.


“Let’s go back. It’s getting fresh and dark,” I say, so I get up and give you the hand to help you. It is no longer so easy to get up. You do not have to discuss it. It is so. Just that you take the hand, as well as the autumn and a fade that will come. But until then freedom and time remain without limit, in the end.


2 Gedanken zu “Fade

  1. robertomuffoletto sagt:

    Nothing fades.. the shadows are always there.

    Best Roberto

    Roberto Muffoletto MFA. Ph.D. Director VASA and VASA Europe Editor VJIC email: Skype: robertomuffoletto Phone USA: +1 828 398 0496 (this is USA skype number) Vienna, Austria +43 (0) 676 794 1227

    1. novels4utoo sagt:

      Everything fades… As the light remains

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