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Day 22 - Return

Writer's picture: ThierryThierry

Suspended comfortably in the air, floating above the world, I let the sun flirt with the horizon. It took several hours before going to bed. Thin clouds blend with the snow of the windswept frozen steppes. A few fireflies twinkled on the ground like so many villages filled with souls who love each other, live and then leave. The miracle of life is everywhere on our tiny little planet that we love so much.





The plane seemed really totally still but we were speeding towards the house where Christmas preparations were to be in full swing. An infinity of leds twinkled in an almost pure sky at this altitude, the same stars that were already shining above our heads on the first day of the world. I write these lines on my diary swollen by time and memories, plunged into total darkness, without being able to reread or correct or even even the slightest line. It's like writing with a pen emptied of its ink, it doesn't prevent us from writing. You just can't see the words. I think then of life written in visible ink, whereas during death perhaps we continue to write, but without ink, or an invisible ink? Another question comes to me to which I will reflect later. Why spend your life thinking about death when death is inevitable and all living things come to an end? Some think about it so much that they forget to live!


Let us take advantage of each second of breath, to love, vibrate, create. Thus closes the Korean chapter, which, I hope you will have satisfied, brought. If so, a simple little heart at the bottom of the page will be my Christmas present. I will continue to write with ink and with light, as long as the breath allows.


Merry Christmas !



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