Lucian Socolov

I am what I am and I am nothing else than what I am. I am to be and I will always be what I am. A part of me I could say; nobody knows me, I wish I did! Being used and abused by my own desires of reaching happiness. This is my drama: cannot be me because of my urge or hope for the better. Why can’t I just satisfy myself with what I have? I had tried… for four months and I had her, she was so blue. One day she told me the story of the swallow of sweetwater and the silkworm. I did complete the story, her story… in the end though. Two beings, completely different, living together in a seashell on a seashore. How was it possible? It couldn’t be me, could it?

Her wings of water in my hands. My spirit of silk in hers. Who could have thought that with a simple touch you can create? With a touch, you are. With a touch, you are not. The silkworm, the simple silkworm… His gift for her – being and not being. Both, together. In return she gave him what he couldn’t reach: peace and love in his heart, all coming from her. Only as she was by his side. She had so much to give… The stupid worm… The stupid simple silkworm… Ignorant, as usual. Everything was laid in front of him. Why couldn’t he see? Stupid simple silkworm. He was buried down in sand, in time… In the past, in his past. He couldn’t break free. His tears had become sweet – her gift to him. The poor thing learned that he is just a little worm, still crawling with no butterfly wings. The metamorphosis would take place eventually when she is long gone.

With a simple touch, you are not. Nothing did he do to prevent it. Everything in front of him, the shell, his shell, her wind and even his salty sea were against him. They served another purpose: ripening him. The set he laid before. A twisted plan for those with a noble heart… only because he didn’t have one. He was in misery, he couldn’t love. He did not know how. A simple worm was holding in his hands the heart of the greatest creature. The swallow in love with him. Stupid simple silkworm. Why couldn’t he keep it there? Holding and supporting her… Giving back scraps of his soul, what he had been given, nothing more and nothing less than pure love. He had none to give. How could he?

I should be thankful for I was hers. I thought it was a game. And I lost. The big game of life. Why should we play? Why should we put on this mask? Cannot we be responsible for our actions if we’re not IN the game? What if we’re not in the game anymore? With our social masks put away, naked in front of them. Powerless. This is life. There are no rules. Nobody and nothing respects THEM. Being in love or being crazy is in fact the same thing after THEIR rules.

Breaking my limits. What is that? Everyone wants it. Everybody needs it. Going beyond yourself or staying in touch with your soul. Going deeper rather than going away. The easiest thing to search is, to keep searching. Should we hold on to what you have, you’ll be then the happiest person alive. Looking at your past and see nothing. Nothing but a heart. Not yours, but hers or his. This is love. Having it. With you.