The Lost Realist

In this piece I have tried a completely new style — no style. That is, no rhyme but some reason =P. I don’t even know if this is prose or poetry or whatever. I am illiterate as to these technicalities anyways, so how could it hurt, right? =)

I fear change, yes, I do,
But never changing? I fear that too.

The world keeps changing,
For me that is constant stress,
But what if it stopped changing tomorrow?
For some days, I’d be relieved,
But after that, life would be worthless.

If I didn’t change, I’d be a rock.
If the world didn’t, it’d be dead.

We are messengers of change,
And still we hate it so much,
In work, in love, in everything we do.
Why is this so?
Because we don’t understand life,
Because we don’t understand love,
Because we refuse to see they are the same.

Living is not the pursuit of happiness.
Where is happiness, haven’t you felt?
Happiness and Sadness walk hand in hand,
They are friends, they are in love,
But we want one and forget its essence.

Loving is not the pursuit of a person.
Where is a person, haven’t you felt?
What we were yesterday, what we are today,
They all dance, merge, fight, cry, kiss and laugh,
Can you call one of them your life and the other not?

We want to love, but we don’t want to embrace,
We want to live, but we don’t want to see, that –

Everything is changing, we are all not here,
We are songs of creation, rhythms in motion,
And we want the music to play, but the notes to stop,
Stop, so we can look at the notes and love them forever,
But alas, if a note would stop, it would lose our love.
The music is the song of love, not the notes,
The rhythm is life, not the ups and downs.

Listen, if we would just listen closely,
If we would let ourselves be for a while,
With each change for the better or for the worse,
In each giggle and in each tear,
We would hear life itself singing,
The song of change, the song of love.