Lost = Life

Come my friend

The pale, dim light shines now

And again disorients us

It's time to abandon everything and walk

We know the journey is not going to be easy

Only the two of us, me and me, and the world

And we're naked: the light shines and we have nothing left

--

As we walk we try to reach it, but it's no use

It's too far and high.

Deep within we know that the light is unattainable

It moves all humans but no human hand can stop it or reach it

Maybe it's because that way, far and high,

it illuminates our journey as we look back

and makes us realize that it has all been worth it.

The world a-changing

You smile,

And for a second all the world changes and
I'm free again. Shall I seat over there? Pois bem. Very well.

I practice my pitch. `A cheeseburger, rare, with a side of fries'.
Maybe confident. Or maybe smiling. Oh, not too smiley, you
know where that gets us.

`A cheeseburger, medium, with a side of fries.' But this time
you don't smile.

And the world changes once again. The sword of Damocles falls
over my head in plural, once again, and reminds me of my inescapable karmic
condition that leaves no solution but to return to the conversation
that was taking place before without thinking of whether or not my
words combined with a confident but not-too-smilyish grin conveyed my
wish of having the waitress for dinner instead of the hamburger but this
in a polite and elegant manner because even if us strangers have a bad
reputation that is easily changed by a confident not-too-shaby smile
that conveys all that we are and dispells what we are not.

Yes! More water. Yes! THANK YOU! And I will have the chocolate mousse.
The one served by your white long languid fingers that make me want to die
so, many times.

But there are no more smiles. Except for the artificial one that precedes the
check, and foresees a tip which it gets.

That is the savior smile. The one that escapes for wanting something in return.
The only true smile that has a first intention. Which is not "genuine" like the ones
who show up mingled with laughters and fun jokes.

That smile tells me that it was not so bad.
And that in the end it really didn't matter.

Akif's Poem

There are two types of people in the world:

First group lives for today, doesn't think of the future, doesn't think the end. For them, years are just ascending numbers.

Second group lives for the ends. They shape today for their favourable future. They assess their lives backwards starting from the very end.

Future would become present and present would become past in some time. There would be no present without future and there would be no past without present.
Therefore, everything starts at the end.

I wish all good ends for you in all areas of life.

Keep Walking

You come to me from a different continent
Looking for the wonders of the Golden State
It's not your first travel, but only one of so many others.

And yet you're weary. What a strange thing to find on your front.
An expression so typical of common mortals, but not on you.
You are never weary.

It's not the fatigue of the travels:
You were born a walker. You are the walker.
No. It's something entirely deeper.

It's the quest for Truth.

It's the quest for the Truth we know exists because we say so.
The quest for that person who with us will eternally burn in the fire of bliss
that only longing halves enjoy once they are reconnected.
Together, you and her will defy all the laws.
All the heavens and all the hells. Is this not the idea of Truth?

You come to me weary, asking why it insists on eluding us.
And we give ourselves to someone else. Someone who says that
there is no Truth. Better, that there is not knowing the Truth.

May you my friend, find Truth, and may she be what you say so, who she is.