Life is too short for boring stories

Inspired by Kieran Halpin „Mission Bell from the CD „Doll“

I struggled with the fate, the facts, the circumstances and with me anyway. Of all the people I know, I am probably the one I often do not like. Then I’d like to go to the devil or somewhere else, but it’s no good. “I cannot escape myself,” Sartre had said, and he had to know. But even if I just came up with me, I did not want to be where I was.

That’s why I was quarreling, not only temporarily, but generally and always, apparently on principle, and because I had not noticed at all. It had become so self-evident to me as breathing. When I did something I wanted to do something else, and when it was time to do something else I wanted to go to the next one. When I was in one place I wished for another, and when I was at this place or another, I began to lament, of course, in secret, and for myself, how beautiful it was at first . So I was in many places and did many things, and yet I did not and was not there.

It happened that I was holding, actually, on that said day, actually, and just there, did not return from any kind or any time. Then I found that I did what I was doing and was where I was. I also noticed that I was no longer quarreling either with fate, with the facts, with the circumstances, or even with myself. What I did, I did gladly, where I was, I was happy, and so I was reconciled with myself.

“A wonderful condition in which I was, but I was not finished yet, something was missing,” I said, when you were there and listened to me.
“It all sounds horribly idyllic,” you growled, emphasized, perhaps even exaggerated, definitely challenging skeptical.
“It was as idyllic as it sounds,” I said, laughing, and pinched you cheekily.
“What was that for now?” you asked.
“So that you can finally get up into the here and now,” I said, seriously, “for the most important thing comes first. I said something was missing.”
“And what was that?”, you finally asked the right question.
“It was the one sentence that summarized everything, briefly and concisely, which captured and contained everything,” I said.
“Commitment? Just a sentence?”, you replied, shaking your head.
“Yes, but not just any sentence, but the sentence of all sentences, at least in this context,” I explained.
“Would you please tell it at last,” you said, obviously becoming impatient.
“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be,” I finally told you, triumphant.
“That sounds very like fatalism,” you only meant.
“Maybe if the love of life and the here and now is fatalism, then it should be so, but even if I were in the worst of all possible situations, and I think this sentence, I remain and can change it. Actually, the non-acceptance is fatalism and not vice versa,” I thought aloud further.

It was the moment you looked at me and I did not know for a long time how to interpret your gaze. But then came this boyish radiant smile that did so well and said,
“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be.”


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