14052011

The art of losing.

When alone and in the need of company I find myself writing. I've felt alone more often in the last week than during that last year and I feel alone tonight as well. My nature says that when you're alone and no one calls you or contacts you in any way, you're supposed to be alone. After all, I could just contact a friend and see if they would be up to something. I suppose this derives from the times somewhere in my youth when I was never called to join my friends in something, or if I was it was for the wrong reasons.

I never intended this text to sound like it sounds. This paragraph was written after I had written the text. The text sounds angry, envious, frustrated, a bit childish even. The thoughts are too far spread but I managed to restrict myself from painting any scenarios. Even though the text might have a sorrowful ring to it, I still smiled typing it. Sometimes it's good to think back on things that happened some years ago and reflect them to every year that has passed since, and completely forget the present. This is probably one of the few of my texts that actually deal with my past and not present in any way.

There's been a raging thunderstorm inside my head for two days now. Actually it's not a storm of any kind. It's sthe strong waves of my thought stream crashing against a huge concrete dam. I feel powerless against my thoughts because I can't let out the anger, the frustration, the annoyance, the longing, the fractures of joy. I feel pathetic thinking about the things I'm thinking about even though I'm trying to fight against the feeling by telling myself that I'm better than my thoughts. Yet, now I am alone. I wouldn't say I feel abandoned or mistreated but I feel alone all the same. And now I want to write about someone else who was alone as well, a long time ago in a place that never existed.

Orpheus was a legendary musician, poet and prophet in the times of the antique Greece. His voice and the melodies of his instruments were enchanting and he could supposedly make a rock follow him. He was happily married and his lyre made the world a better place. Not too shabby as achievements of one man.

Orpheus' wife was the beautiful Eurydice whose story is almost as sad as Orpheus'. Eurydice was having a nice stroll through the woods when she was set up by a satyr and fell into a nest of poisonous vipers. She was bit by one of them into her vulnerable heel. The bite ended up being fatal and she found her final resting place in that pit of vipers. Some time later, Orpheus found her body and was overcome with agonizing grief. For a man who is driven by an artistic force, a woman means a lot. Women have the tendency of being the source of everything beautiful a man can create. Orpheus let out his feelings in a song that was so beautiful and mournful that even all the gods wept silent tears.

Orpheus was advised by the touched gods to travel to the underworld from where he might still be able to retrieve his wife from. (The cruel part about the Greek mythology in my opinion is that they only have a hell and no heaven.) Through various trials Orpheus came out triumphant was allowed to leave the underworld with his newly-found wife under one condition: he would have to walk in front of her and not look back at her until they were both in the upper world. Only this way would he be able to save his wife from the depths of the underworld. They walked through the mazes of the underworld with Oprheus leading the way and his wife, Eurydice, walking right behind him. Once he reached the upper world and stepped outside, he was too anxious to see his beautiful wife and looked back at her. At the very same moment he realized (too late) that they should both have been out in the upper world and not just him. His wife vanished before his eyes, never to be seen again.

I don't know how Orpheus could have handled the loss of his loved one the second time but apparently he did because he did not die of sorrow right there. He did not fall on his knees, burst in violent tears that would end his life. No. He kept on living, alone. I imagine Orpheus to be one of the loneliest people ever to have walked any world. Such a lonely man that Oprheus was later on in his life, one would hope that he would not have to die alone. That there would still be someone to love him on his death bed. No. He was shred into pieces by vicious women while he was worshipping his god. He might have been praying for company when he was torn apart to his death. Putting his hands together for a last prayer that he would not have to be alone. For nothing.

Talking about the women that have been in your life is for the likes of Paulo Coelho. He is not alone and he can write about the women in a neutral way and I envy him for that. When you're feeling alone and looking back on the women that have vanished from your life throughout your short life, you start feeling there's something wrong with you. It shouldn't be that way and one should not think that way. But wasn't it Orpheus who looked back at his wife to make her disappear? Wasn't the loss his fault? I regret nothing but I feel the same way about every female companion I have had the pleasure of meeting in my life. The loss was not their fault - it was me looking back at them that made me lose them. I have had my chances of letting go, I have had my chances of getting a second chance and I have always looked back - only to perform the art of losing.

Orpheus' story is sad but my story is full of vitality and willpower. I am young and I shouldn't even trouble myself with such thoughts. If people are not willing to commit to me then I can only commit to their memory. Maybe it's them looking back at me and me vanishing? Nothing exists forever and people aren't for granted. That's what I have learned during my years of walking this road.

.i'm tired of talking to a wall when i could talk to someone else.