The other side




Sometimes it's chaos. Other times, it is organized, it becomes visible in symbolic sets. And symbols say things. Others remain silent. They say nothing to say everything. The other side is full of broken details, forgotten, hidden, melancholic, wounded by silence or perhaps by noise. The sound that does not silence the noise, is muted in the same way. And all mutes speak at the same time, that's why they don't hear each other, that's why they're mute, that's why only their own echo responds. The other side is almost the same as this, a light is reflected on your face, a light charged with sharp marks on the air. The scenes are different, but they speak to each other, like the whisper of a lullaby from a mother to her child, or a father hoarse from the heat of the day, maybe it's the mother who's hoarse. The important thing is the sound, the melody, what carries the beautiful gesture that carries itself.  On the other side, thoughts shake the earth under your feet, make your feet tremble on the earth. Clicking your teeth, wanting to understand, waiting for the end. Dear friends, beloved strangers of mine, sometimes you are the other side, other times as many, as today, it is me.

From this side, which is nowhere to be found, I am writing to your side, which I still don't know where it is; in any case, my best wishes for this new year that has begun. From side to side, let's be happy.😉
F. JaBieR

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