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Life is too short for boring stories

It is always up to me whether I choose fulfillment and thus the dying of longing, or whether I leave longing unredeemed and escape fulfillment.

I follow the glitter of the blue flower and meet you on the next bench. You hold out your hand to me. Mine approaches yours and your offer spontaneously. But then it occurs to me again. I know this scene all too well. You hold out your hand to me. Mine is approaching yours. They are already very close, just close your fingers around your hand, but at this last moment you pull it back. I go on to meet your open hand again, which extends to me. Again, and again you turn away, walk away from me, even hide yourself, disappear into oblivion, into the abyssal and soundlessness.

„Where are you? You, whom my soul is looking for. Where are you? You, to whom my thoughts turn”, I speak to myself, into the silence, into the abandonment.
„Here I am, not far from you. You just have to follow my voice to get to me,“ you say to me, just at the moment when I see myself disappearing completely into abandonment. Again, I open myself up, come very close to you, and again you withdraw, at the last moment.

The goal of longing is to achieve.
Reaching is the death of longing.

It is always up to me whether I choose fulfillment and thus the dying of longing or whether I leave longing unredeemed and escape fulfillment.

I follow the glitter of the blue flower to this bench on which you are sitting. Now you do not withdraw. Now you stay.

„Why am I allowed to sit down with you? Why don’t you go like you always do?” I speak to myself and the agony of my soul.
“Because you understand. Because you no longer need my guidance. In my walking, I give you the opportunity to see a goal and, with this goal, to discover the path, along with all the possibilities that open up for you,” you say to me and wriggle yourself away by staying.
“You leave me alone and leave me to be alone in the forlornness of the I, which is not aware of itself and is not strong enough. Why do you leave me alone? „, I speak to you, and my need.
“If I don’t leave you alone and leave you to yourself, you have no reason to grow. You lean on me and think you have hold. You stand up against me and think you are strong. Only now that you can stand alone, that you straighten up and find strength, now I can give you my hand and stay,” you tell me.

The goal of longing is to achieve.
Reaching is the death of longing.

Go to part 3 here.

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