On the lake

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You know, I often go to a popular lake nearby and sit on a bench there. I have my place where I chill, and I like that place very much, especially because it’s not too crowded, yet on the other side of lake, as far as my eyes can see, it’s all filled with people. Then I start thinking deeply…

For a long time I watch people with great interest as they move. There is something special about watching them coming and going. Every one of them has its own unique story. Why did he decided to come to the lake, what was he doing before that and what will he do when he leaves. Some of them are rushing, some of them are walking slowly. Why do they rush, is that their usual pace or are they pressed for time? Some of them are jogging, some of them are riding bicycles, and some of them are just having a walk with their families and friends. I would love to know stories behind their faces.

Then, I notice swans swimming from one side of lake to the other. They too have their own story. And their experiences, and their interpretation of this world. I often think about how the world looks to them, how they experience it and do they feel happiness and joy from such slow and calm way of life. Just swimming and floating, all day.

Then, I notice wind as well. Light and slow, air that is on the move. We always take it for granted, but we never give more thoughts about it. Rarely a man gets aware that between all of us isn’t just an empty space but air. What is air anyway, and let alone air that is moving without any visible reason. Who pushed it first?

And then, time has come for me to go back home. I’m leaving and now I am among those same people I was observing before. And who knows, perhaps, someone just like me, is now looking at me and ask himself the same question I was asking. Who am I and where am I going? Why have I decided to get here and what is a story behind my face…

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