zondag 6 februari 2011

Spleen

Lately my restlessness is driving me crazy. And worst of all: i'm suffering from that of which i thought it would never get me > old age. 
Old? Old!!?  I'm only 52, the devil is old, right?
Old age means melancholy. Such a beautiful word. Sometimes, very rarely, i used this beautiful word to express an intense feeling. What did √≠ know? The meaning of this word, the deep intense meaning. The bittersweet emotion it gives you. I didn't know it. I thought i did, the arrogance of youth, but i didn't know the meaning and the emotion. Far from it. Far from it.... 
The true meaning, the right emotion i know just since a short while. But then again.... Maybe this emotion, of which i think i can see through its meaning,  is but a very small atom of reality. What is reality? See?  I think and i think and i think. 

Just right now there  was this song on the radio. A clear girlish voice sings about a lost love. And what girls do when that happens. That's what single girls do, lala lala....  I started to cry. Just like that. That happens more often lately. Crying about nothing. Crying about everything. 
I'm not a single girl. My love is walking my road for a very long time now. Our road. Still, i have lost a love also. The love from the girl inside of me. Or no, i haven't lost her, i'm still a girl at heart and i'm grateful for that. But the world doesn't see the girl because she is hiding herself in this body of mine. This aging body. 
I used to laugh at women who were complaining about aging.  
"Come on, get real, it's part of life. I wouldn't be such an exagerator."
Today i say; sorry ladies, that laughter of mine was the arrogance of youth. I didn't know any better. I didn't know the meaning of aging. The melancholy it brings. I didn't feel it. Far from it. 
And now it has taken me by the hand.  It devours me. I feel it. Heavily. And i cry for the girl in me. I laugh at my ignorance. I cry for nothing. I cry for everything. It aches. It feels good. It aches.
Bittersweet.