Three o’clock in the afternoon, I was sitting on the terrace, as usual. In my hand the best friend of the person – book, made my day sunnier, as it always does. My fingers, following the lines, were so excited and waiting for what will happen next. Letter by letter, word by word. Captured in the story, I imagined all the things going on there, pretended to be involved in the plot.

From time to time, and there appeared again this moment while reading, I fall into depression. When I read about ordinary people, being able to do all the things they want, they long for, people who with a little bit of try can have all they dreamed about, I feel sad. In such a minute I realize I’m different. And I envy them. Their easiness, airiness, not complicated way of living. It’s true that most of the time I’m thinking too much, and often I catch myself in imagining, dreaming and asking “why, the hell, me? Why did it happen just to me? ” But what else should I do? I don’t like it but, yes, there are moments I commiserate myself.

I stopped reading and just sat with my legs crossed, thinking. It was a beautiful day and I suddenly said to myself: “Why to damage such a nice day? Be calm and have a good time.” So I threw all those thoughts away and just meditated.
Suddenly, I became absorbed in all around me. Little boy stopped on a bike in front of me and asked: “What are you doing? ” My answer surprised him somehow: “I’m listening.” The boy said: “What to? I can’t hear anything.” I replied: “Try to close your eyes.” He obeyed, and I could feel the smile on his face. “Wow, ” he said, “birds, river, trees and even sky! “ I smiled too, and he left with happy “thank you”. I was so excited and all at once I didn’t feel useless anymore. I still can make people happy, and I still can appreciate the beauty even if I cannot see it physically. So I continued reading with no more sadness or regretting.

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gusto  29. 11. 2009 20:15
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