Last Sunday I visit an old friend. We used to be at the same class when we were younger. He did good. Graduated from a good university, and now working for a major company. He lives in a rather large and luxurius appartment even though he lives by himself.
We talked for hour about random staff, political, economical, women, and although he hold alot of knowledge on every short of topic, it wasn't our conversation that put me in deep thoughts for hours and hours; it was something in his livingroom, a large fishtank, full with colourful fish that made the water look like a rainbow from another dimension.
It is said that these kind of fish don't long for the ocean, because they've never tasted it. I refuse to believe that. When I see animals that were born and raised in captivity I can tell that their missing something, in their stare, in their moves. It's something subconsious, an instict, a missing part taken violently away from them.
I took a look at myself. Is there any of our premitive emotions left? Did they made it through the ages? Is that the reason we cannot fit in harmony in this concrete jungle? Is it the same when we cannot find one to fall in love completely? An old myth says that in ancient times humans had two heads, four arms and four legs and Zeus got afraid of their potential and spit them into two people. Therefore, we spent our lives looking for our other half. Is this the reason why most people walking this earth feel miserable and try to fill their lives with false hope? In lack of comprehention of a primal calling?
Walking home I couldn't stop thinking about how our lives are made out of plastic and instant things and feelings that fade away in a blink of an eye. A life in fast forward, trying to catch nothing but thin air while the infinite already surrounds us.