Que sera, sera

It is said that when God glued the stars to the heavens, He already knew man would be His ultimate creation. To be created in His image. So God chose to write man’s fate in the stars. All that would happen, all the forces that would build or crush man’s dreams, all the moments of doubt, joy, or sorrow. All the tears, of all kinds. Everything, written in the stars. Everything, to be guarded by the most beautiful of angels.Que sera, sera.

Whatever will be, will be. What’s meant to happen, will happen. Whether we want to or not.

The strange coincidences that shape the course of our lives are drawn against the night sky. You can almost decipher everything in the coldest and darkest nights. You can almost see your future, glued against the dark silence.
Whatever will be, will be.

And no man can ever do anything about it.
The planets align themselves.

The Universe serves you. Or does anything in its powers to crush you.

What is meant to happen, will happen.
Every single thing happens for a reason.
There’s no chaos, only order. One we don’t understand; one we sometimes don’t even desire. One that we despise.

But eventually we’ll see all that is written in the stars, and we’ll understand.

And, yet, it is also said that after He made man, in His image, God wasn’t pleased. Something was missing. His Adam seemed to be empty on the inside.
And then God, in His infinite wisdom and power, gave man the freedom of choice.

Adam was allowed to be the master of his fate, the creator of his destiny.

Whatever will be, will be.

Or maybe not.

You and I through a thousand lives…

Here we are, holding hands at the edge of forever. Here we are, in the emptiness between stars. Here we are, waiting for another life.
Soulmates never die.

You know the legend the Ancient Greeks had about humans? That they once had four legs and four arms and heads with two faces? That Zeus, afraid of them being too powerful, decided to split them in half, damned them to spend a lifetime in search of their missing halves?

No, not a lifetime, but a thousand lifetimes…

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One

I am an avid smoker. When I wake up in the morning, I feel this inexplicable urge to smoke a cigarette. I have to do it. After a good meal, I light myself a cigarette. I can’t drink coffee without two or three cigarettes – as a side dish, I suppose.

So one day I made myself a promise. For every cigarette I smoke I have to write one page of literature. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. I have to write one page, five hundred or so words, just so I can puff away some nicotine. Continue reading

The Great Actor

“Look, sir, at all the letters you’ve received,” the nurse said as she looked at the pile of letters that lay on the desk. “More and more every week,” she added as she took a letter out of the pile and stared at it as though she were trying to read its content through the white envelope.

She turned around and smiled at the Great Actor, who was agonizing on the bed. His blue eyes were fixed in the direction of the TV and didn’t even seem to notice her presence. Continue reading

Beautiful ghosts

They say you’ll live forever if a writer falls in love with you.

Tell this to the right girl and she’s yours. Of course, it might take a while to find her, and it obviously helps if you’re somewhat famous.

But I don’t tell them that I’d only write about them if they’d break my heart. Because that’s how I put the pieces back together. I don’t tell them that I stopped loving a long time ago.

It’s not that I don’t want to, I simply can’t. That bizarre mechanism that allows people to feel as if someone else is a part of who they are, as if they’ve found something they’ve always felt was missing… well, that mechanism’s broken for me. Continue reading

Heroes

The first thing you realize when a bullet pierces  your flesh is that nothing lasts forever. And when your body hits the pavement you realize the second one. The most lasting truths are actually lies.

Small steps carried our bodies towards the cathedral, like we all had forgotten how to walk. But it wasn’t that. We had forgotten how it was to be free. We were around thirty. Young, strong men. But in that bitter cold, with the darkness hissing in our ears, we could barely stand on our feet. From time to time, we looked at each other as if trying to find a bit of comfort. Our warm, steamy breaths curled around our throats and lingered in the freezing air above our heads like hangman’s knots. Continue reading