A table is a noun and the “a” that starts my statement is an article. Am I right? Of course, I am. Therefore I approached a question “who am I?” with high self-confidence. That was how I entered the incredible mess. The question outwardly looked as the tale jokes yet it was hard to answer anything as it is impossible wisely comment the jokes. Yet “who am I?” is not a joke, in spite this writing indeed looks like abracadabra.
I think that 80 words or 349 characters (no space) should be enough for the introduction. The time came to make a conclusion. And I will do it by a glimpse at what I am doing at the moment.
At the moment, I am reading what was already red not once. “We are all wanderers on this earth. Our hearts are full of wonder, and our souls are deep with dreams”
That’s fantastic. Gypsy proverb closed all my papers and the wind of the road started dancing in my lungs again. A statement of wetness of the water looks dull in repetition, yet it is otherwise with our being the wanderers. That’s obvious, yet it is hard to understand. Why do I need the reminder that my legs are given to walk?
While we are on a road, we don’t bother for what is put on our tables; we don’t grieve but enjoy the walk and share not mourning but the good news about approaching the heaven.
I am so happy to leave my place at a table near the kitchen window; I don’t grieve to leave the lovely meditations at the window to the world, I am going to a doctor and soon I will be surrounded by lots of other patients. My solitude is broken already; I am already on my way.