(By Hella Ahmed) We can talk about happiness, even though some sweet song says that “happiness does not exist”.

There are moods, rumours, conflicts, physical and moral pains. There is calm when you have stopped moping or ruminating, when you have stopped being afraid or crying. There is a sigh of relief when the throat has cleared. There is the relaxed back and there is the revived and glorified indulgence towards oneself when the right choice was made, when compassion has healed and saved.

There is the pleasant surprise that rejuvenates, the rebuilt by tenderness and free love belief that life makes sense. There is the quiet moment, when you’re having tea and you realize that birds are singing around you, that they have always been there when you had forgotten about them, when you just stopped seeing them.

There is benevolence, when we forgive ourselves for having forgotten to be vigilant, for having suffered so much, for having been abused and traumatized. There is deep conviction that all is not lost when you have almost capsized but you survived.

There’s a kiss on the cheek, a given hand that doesn’t want to empty your pockets but simply hold your hand. There is revolt, fallen prisons and there is hope that the world will not collapse so that the selfish and cruel are again and always rewarded. 

There are childhood memories even though you have lost loved ones. There are tears of joy when you realize that a friend is a real one. You have to give, give and take, because nothing is eternal and nothing makes sense if it’s only suffering and wandering.

There is bad faith that destroys self-esteem and then those thought trips that can take you away from the sadness of having been forgotten. There are journeys that lead you to yourself, and somewhere else, where you can marvel, meet eyes and connect. 

Have you been forgotten? Have you forgotten? Have we forgotten ourselves and each other?

We forget those who loved us so much, whom we loved so much, it can sadly happen and more than often. We forget ourselves when we surrender without knowing that the strongest are not always the real ones and that the considered fragile are sometimes the passionate, conscious that humans are not perfect, but we still need to always love and forever. 

To breathe, to love and above all not to forget, because « lost time can not be brought back »and time to come is not a given certainty.

5/07/2016 Copyright © Hella Ahmed

Ce texte traduit du français fait partie du livre Déconnectés? Respirez, par Hella Ahmed, paru le 21/06/2021.

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