bliss in abstract - act 7 ( the final act )

(WARNING: Don’t read this final act unless you have read the previous six acts)
(…it will make more sense…)

I must finish this awkward story because I am too exhausted to struggle and I am tormented and in state of anguish trying to put the last full stop on this savage act of despair.
I must because my home does not know me anymore; worst yet, my parrot does not know me any more.
I must because my visage is pale with anguish and my lips are blue. My eyes are distorted and squinting since I started this madness of a story.
I must because I am standing still with my mouth open and despair creeping into my soul feeling unequal to face this fear and this growing rage.
I must because the thought of her smallness and tender spirit in the hands of a writer who could bruise and mangle her pixy spirit is tormenting my soul.
I must finish this story now because my exile is more bitter than hers.

I will now begin the end, and share with you that charming and heartbreaking story I read long time ago and has clung to my skin like some thick glue. A short story that will finally end this story. But you must promise to close your eyes after every sentence and visualize this enchanting story accompanied by the plangent tones of violin played by the dying, thin-faced musician on the street corner. And then, may be then I can finally stop the onslaught of facts dancing in my head.
Then, and only then if there is something inside of you that you do not know about, such as unsuspected guts or nobility of the spirit in the face of sorrow and pain, it will come out if you are confronted by the unknown while you are alone without friends, without support, without familiar boundaries. And that’s when you will see yourself and the world for what you really are: Breathtaking Events.
If nothing comes out of you under those circumstances, it is because you have Nothing.

That story by, Lowell A. Siff, was simply titled Love:

Once upon a time…
There was a little girl,
She had parents-naturally-but
They went away when she was nine.
She was not a pretty girl,
And people never told her: Isn’t she darling!
She did not have any relatives.
So, someone from an orphan’s home took her.
There were many children at the orphanage,
And she was alone much of the time,
So, no one paid much attention to the little girl.
She played by herself,
Since the other children thought that she was quite unattractive,
And a bit strange.
She had big eyes,
And would stare at people with curious preoccupation.
She liked to walk around the grounds of the orphanage,
Stopping occasionally,
To pick up a leaf,
Or to watch a bird,
Or just to stop.
Her only friends were..
The beautiful green things,
The warm sunny days,
And her own thoughts.
At times, she did things that were not very nice;
She would spit at another girl who was not pretty either.
And she had no manners at all at the table.
After she stayed at the orphanage for a while,
Everyone disliked her very much,
The other children were making up bad stories about her.
The director of the orphanage actually believed them;
“They must be true”…He said.
Things got so bad,
That the director was trying to think of some way of sending her away,
Possibly to another orphanage.
But, some excuse was needed to do this.
One day…
An attendant found her putting a piece of paper inside an old tree that stood near the gate of the orphanage.
He took it to the director,
The director was pleased,
Since the children were forbidden to communicate with anyone on the outside.
This was the needed excuse.
The director unfolded the paper and read what was written,







…………Whoever finds this, I Love You…!

- the end -

bliss in abstract - act 7 ( the final act )

imagineering

Joined March 2009

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