Daddy Thinks: Why, you ask? Because you are.

Earth, water, air and fire

All present in a fleeing moment

All holy

Myself in the middle

Wandering, lost soul

Destined to search for the meaning

Why am I here?

The Spinner sings to me

He tells me: there is no end, no beginning

Just you, the Universe and endless continuum of life and death

Keep singing while the time is yours

There is nothing more to ponder

Just sing

— 05/07/2019 DT —


Thought I would start from the night when something moved inside of me. It was the thing that was hidden quite deep inside my mind after I experienced a some kind of “revelation” a few months before.

I was spending time with my family and relatives on our cabin in Saimaa archipelago in Finland. It is The Place I call my Soul Landscape. Even in my darkest hours, it was a place that made me feel at least something. It is where I have been born and where my spirit belongs.

Everyone else was asleep already after we’ve spent some time together on a pier overlooking the calm lake. We had put up a campfire, laughed, eaten and drank together. And now I was sitting on the pier all alone, thinking of how lucky I am to have those people in my life and just to be here. My mind wandered somewhere as I gazed the serene scenery all around me and the lively campfire dancing in front of me.

You know how a Spinner sounds? It sounds eternal. Suddenly my ears were filled with its hypnotic loop which I didn’t notice before, not when I was busy socializing with my loved ones. I don’t know how long I sat there, but it felt like it was for an eternity and yet only for a blink of an eye. I used to make a “kind of poetry” in my adolescence: I wrote lyrics to the songs we composed and played with my buddies. The lyrics were as naive as I was and I really lacked content of life to properly write them, but I did them anyway and sang them on stage or in a studio with pride and unpolished anger of youth. When all that ended, the youth, the music and the carefree life, when life took a turn towards new goals unknown, I never sang again. I didn’t write anything, not when I fell in love nor when I was down and blue. That’s what made this night at the pier so special. After I woke up from the Spinner suggested trance I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and wrote: It came as a stream of words, a short stream, but nonetheless. I stared at the text incredulously. The Spinner was silent, there was only embers left in the campfire.

Maybe I should sing again?

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