The beating Soul
She was just a normal girl, a normal girl who grew up too early.
She was a young writer who used to believe in magic, not the kind we read about in fairy tales, but the kind that feeds the human soul.
Her dad, Daniel, used to tell her that the way she talked, the way she wrote, was what made the world go round.
Her mum died giving birth to her.
At the time she turned 13, Daniel gave her mum’s diary, and that was where she got all her inspiration from.
She was always curious about this world, she loved reading philosophical and science fictional books, she said that these books filled the gap she had in her heart.
This girl was known by her caring and loving personality, she would always be there for everyone, forgetting to be there for herself.
She used to stay up all night looking at the stars, wondering if there was any reason for her life.
She had a lot of questions that no one had the answers to.
She used to ask questions that I still hear in my head over and over again.
“Why are we here? Why are we alive? What is this life, and … what is its purpose?”
“If this life is nothing more than what we think it is, than why do we have the ability to think about something that is way bigger?”
“What about our imagination? What about our souls? And… and what about us?”
Nobody knew the answers to these questions, so instead of answering her, they labelled her, just like they did to every other kid in this world …
They would tell her things like: “You’re too young to understand, just mind your own business.” They would shut her up, shut her mind down.
But her mind fought against that and her curiosity never left her. That courageous soul of hers was too strong to be killed so easily.
Day by day she started thinking that she was doing something wrong, just by trying to think outside of the box.
So she tried to stop herself.
I remember finding a note on her desk that said:
« It’s like having headphones and trying to speak, your brain knows exactly what you’re saying. Even though you are sure that you have said it, you raise your voice so you can hear yourself… Because your mind needs the evidence to believe that you have actually said it. That’s how we are… deep inside we know that in those millions of stars there’s something greater than what we call reality, but that’s not enough for our brains… We need to see something, hear something or feel something with our hands … We need an evidence, a REAL evidence. »
That was the last time I saw her writing something.
She was one fierce lady, but everyone has their own fears. She said once: « We can only see what our brain can handle seeing, but if it can handle thinking about our fears… Then we can see them as well!”
Trying to stop herself from looking at life from this point of view, made her blind. Just like everyone else. Everything she had inside her turned to nothing, nothing but an empty space.
She couldn’t feel happiness, nor sadness… She felt nothing for a long time.
And that was the time when she got depressed.
She started blaming herself for everything that happened, looking at stuff from the darkest possible corner, feeling worthless … I once saw wounds on her hands; she said that she had done it to feel alive. « It might feel really weird and stupid for you, because you believe that depression should have a reason like losing someone or something, not knowing that sometimes, it’s just what comes out of fighting your own self to find happiness », she said. « And feeling pain is ten times better than feeling nothing… », she added.
Time went by and she got colder …
I think that getting colder was the consequence of feeling one thing for a long time. Humans can get used to everything; we can’t feel the cold water after being in that swimming pool for some time.
We get used to it … Just like we get used to everything else.
So she grew up with no hopes, got married, gave birth to two children and captured them in these four walls of reality just like the people did to her many years before.
The only thing she has now is some short note she avoids to read.
You still haven’t figured out who this girl is? Then let me help you.
SHE is each one of us… She is the voice you hear every day in your mind. She is the child that you ignore every passing day.
Do you want to know what happened to her? Then let me explain you her story.
At first she was YOU, your untouched soul by this world. The creative, curious, full of knowledge version of you…
But as you grew up the world started telling you what to do, who you should be, teaching you things and making you believe that you are just NORMAL. That you are here to study, make some money, get two or three kids and die. And then your kids will do the same. And so on, and so on…
What people do to themselves, it’s that they killed that little girl…
Then you lived with this, till your mind got used to the fact that you can never think about anything new… You got convinced that « imagining things, being human and trying to improve your soul instead of your living status » are just stupid stuff for kids… You only think about stuff on the surface… You never go deeper, that’s when that little girl got cold… That was the time she decided to give in.
The note she has is her last hope in this world… It’s my last hope, your last hope, everyone’s last hope… And guess what it said…
It said: “WAKE UP!!! … WAKE UP.”