There’s a place with thousand lakes.. and no one knows why. You don’t ask questions to the mother of Nature, you accept her will and you’re glad that she’s an artist. Today I visited that mystical place.. it’s beautiful. Walking the road that only one man can walk.. between two lakes, a little bit afraid to fall into water, doubting which would be better.. the lake on the right.. or the lake on the left.. where lies the beast, which is the portal to heaven? But maybe.. both of them are evil? Why do people are so positive to think that there’s light right next to dark? Of course it gives us a hope.. that every time we make a mistake, a new opportunity’s born to make everything better. Well.. that’s not always true. Sometimes you have to walk all the road in darkness.. sometimes you’re screwed. Sometimes not even the closest of your so called friends will care. People love to laugh. The main purpose of this life.. to have fun. Why? Why bother with those that are less fortunate? Those losers.. what if being unhappy and failing at everything is some kind of a disease? What if helping leads us to infection? No one wants to be behind blue eyes, left alone without a hope. Well.. I care. Can’t walk numbly by the desperate ones. Can’t hold myself down.. can’t stop me from helping. If I lived in the deep ocean.. where everything’s dangerous and the only light that gives a hope just to take it all away again is angler fishes trap.. I’d be about as scared as I’m now. And to be honest.. that’s how I feel right now.. I’m trying my best to hold myself together, but you can see by my trembling hands.. my nerves are far from ok. What if I’m not as good as I thought I was? If I can’t help myself.. how can dare to think that I’m helping others? Maybe I really am Deaths apprentice, ’cause whenever I allow someone to know me better..to feel me closer. They’re being hurt.. Toms died, Viesturs died.. Kaspars was almost killed by a bus. Maybe I am the angler fish.. giving a hope.. then killing without even noticing it.
The thousand lakes.. why are they there? Walking the path by nighttime with a flashlight. Only few trees to support the land. Think a little longer and you’re wet, if there were crocodiles you’d be dead. Then again.. if there were man-eating crocodiles.. you wouldn’t even have to slip into lake to be eaten. That’s how they protect their nests. Only survival instinct. Nothing personal. Oh.. why do people always take everything so personal? The answer lies withing the word.. it’s ’cause they’re persons.. personalities. Selfish and proud. No better than animals, no, more like disease, more like beasts. Blaming others, infecting each other, killing for fun, will never really accept their fault. Will never look back, to think over.. to feel a pity. And if they’ll feel a pity.. they won’t do anything to make it better.. the only reason to do something is to gain something from it. No one cares about the left overs. Everyone wants to die someday.. and no one wants to be the last person on earth, the last one to live. The last one to see all that’s left. No one wants to be alone. No one wants to take the right decision when it’s taking too much away. And everyone says.. it’s too late anyway. Hey. we’re still alive.. we’re still reproducing ourselves. why does one hand gives, if the other one takes away? Why do we keep trying if we know we’re dying? ‘Cause we’re humans. Irrational. Silly. Self concentrated. Creatures.
Don’t ask me to be logical. I’m human. Only, human.