Need new dreams and new colors without delay

The words of our teachers are as sacred to us as our mother’s breast. So much so that we carry it for a lifetime. We fill one pocket at school and another at home with what we learn. As a child, every new day brings a new life. Childhood is your father’s tone of voice, his approach, your mother’s needy joker attitude, your friend’s heroism that saves you from being buried in your silence, your brother’s reproducing what is yours by sharing.

Then we grow up and every day is the same as if nothing changes. First we forget the dreams we had as children, then everything about ourselves. We get away from our loneliness, from within, and get lost in the bustle of business. Our only responsibility is to work, according to our logic. We work, we produce, we live with the words that have become rosewood in our language. Then depressive times come into our lives, usually when we least expect it. We try to destroy these times before we see that there is a time to evaluate by introspection. Questioning, rethinking and dreaming have no place in our lexicon. A voice within us remembers the innocence of the child, blesses it, and cannot live with it like every sacred taboo.

Then the sky turns white. We see less color and hear less. To fight dissatisfaction, again hope we try to make it green, just when we’ve given up on life. That’s when we realize what we actually fit into our lives. With a smile, we remember what we can’t see and feel in the flow of life. In fact, life is hidden in our careless breathing, unconsciously making love and making love that we prevent. Our friend, who is the whole society for us, made us forget the harmony within us while we were taking our loneliness. While sharing our experiences, we couldn’t see the renewed lives, we couldn’t hear the sprouts that grow inside us. We have always remained the same, we have filled our saddlebags with what we raised as a child, and we have not left room for new flowers to bloom.

Sometimes it’s time to put our saddlebag down and play around. Before it’s too late, we must clean our saddlebags every million breaths. We have to remove the old ones, add new ones and take care of ourselves. Maybe then we will be the holy ones, without remembering our childhood with longing…

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