Burn up, burn out, but burn the brightest


Perseid_meteor_and_Milky_Way_in_2009

Perseid meteor and Milky Way in 2009” by Brocken InagloryOwn work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

Sometimes, memories cannot be captured in pictures. But some of them are so strong that, whenever you reminisce, the feelings they generated are recreated so strongly inside your heart that you get taken back instantly to a perfect replica of those moments – bubbles in time where clocks don’t turn, everything lasts forever, your heart perpetually skips the same beat, your smile never fades, and the glimmer in your eyes reflects incessant excitement. To me, this is the best kind of memories. They’re so complex, meaningful, and intimate – only I know them, only I can relive them.

For a very long time I’ve been yearning to witness the beauty of the Perseid meteors at the beginning of August. But, somehow, every year around that time I always managed to be in places where star-gazing was impossible. This year, however, I’ve been blessed. Not only am I here, in this lovely place, surrounded by such diverse and amazing peers and such inspiring lecturers, but also it happened to be during this period of the month. It happened that there aren’t lights around the large sports fields. It happened that last night, the peak of the meteor shower, the sky wasn’t cloudy. It happened that we had no moon these nights. It happened that the first shooting star I saw was a big, bright one, which almost cut the sky in half, made my heart stop for a moment, took my breath away, and then immediately made me squeak and giggle like a little kid.

The playfulness of the wind. The smell of the trees. The wetness of the grass on the football field. The shouts of joy coming from the other people, making their way through the beats of my music, slipping into my ears. The fierceness of those small fireballs, blazing through the darkness, shining their brightest. I will borrow some of your valor. I will shine my brightest, despite my tininess, despite the shortness of my life in the grand scheme of things. And from now on, whenever I think of Marktoberdorf, it will forever be raining shooting stars over all the other fond memories I’ve made here ^_^

Of splendour and smallness


colaj

I am not weird. Just because I do things differently, doesn’t mean I am weak. Or sad. Or lonely. I’m just not like you are. My soul vibrates differently to the world outside. It still sees it. It still feels it. My God, you have no idea how much my soul can feel. Or how colourful my emotions are. Or how they blend into each other creating subtle, fragile, amazing new nuances that the eyes can’t even begin to perceive.

I love life. I love living it. I love it even more when my path intersects with those of people who possess a certain thirst of living – the mad ones, in the words of a dear friend of mine, inspired by Lewis Carroll’s Wonderland. I just don’t live in the same way that you do. For me, this word has so many different, complex, deep meanings.

If I’m in a place where it’s really dark at night, give me a blanket and nice summer weather.  I’ll lie there for hours – because I rarely get the opportunity to appreciate the night sky in all its splendour. It reminds me of my childhood, of the summers spent at my grandmother’s place. I’ll carry those memories within me forever and, whenever I’ll lie on my back and open my eyes to a star-filled sky, I’ll always go back to being the little kid fascinated both by grandness and tininess.

If it’s a rainy day, give me a windowsill and a good book. A real book, with pages I can touch, smell, flip. I’ll be there all day long, registering the vibration of each word through the tips of my fingers, engraving the story into my mind, and slowly opening windows into my heart to let the emotions pour both inside and outside, intertwining, overflowing.

If I’m in a beautiful spot in the mountains, give me a camera and just leave me there for a day. I’ll fall in love with every gust of wind, with every sensation, with the green, with the blue, with the trees, with the insects, with the dirt. Look at the photos I take and see the world through my eyes. I bet you had no idea you were passing by so many tiny, lovely things. Take a more careful look next time. I’m sure you’ll fall in love as well, irremediably.

Talk to me. Because I can see so deep inside myself, I know my dark and ugly places much too well. I might not deem myself worthy of invading your existence with mine. But if you want me to and you let me know that you do, be prepared. Make me feel safe around you – I will surely open up. I might turn out to be quite a handful, but don’t be discouraged. Let me see the beauty in you. You definitely have it, there’s no doubt about that. And, maybe, remind me that I’m not entirely made out of dark and ugly places.