12. The Transfiguration of the Tree The time has passed.
The wind has changed.
Everything around me is ... changed, even the color of the shadows that, alone, projected onto the frozen ground.
are in another land, another region of Tartarus. The stories, characters and symbols left behind? Far away, too. What has changed? I've changed. As always, in Tartarus. But it also changed my life in the real world, with all the projections of the case. From the inside out. Outside to inside.
The time has passed. Winter has arrived.
The Transfiguration tree limbs are stiff of my soul in writing. My mad rush to Tartarus never been so busy, but not the muse of writing inspired me lately. Even The style is dull, flat, very incisive. Numb and tingling, trudging my words on the blank page, supported only by the determination of my gaze. The runner ran so fast and so far far that the Word was unable to follow him. Or maybe he just needs to run, without thinking about the meaning of the motion.
What should I speak? Of Freedom. Exaltation. Madness. ....... Failure and pain, as always.
How normal is. As it should be.
change. In the very long time since the last post, things have happened incredible, unimaginable. I feel that my arrogance as a storyteller urges me to tell all, and my laziness, my insufficiency or just my tiredness will not let me do it. Or maybe just the fear of boring my reader? or myself?
In good measure, now it's too soon to talk about it.
This is perhaps only the starting block and emptiness of a quiet evening, I hope to find new blood for the above-mentioned lazy limbs. Any race, even the fastest, begins with a single step.
So I'll talk about that event that changed everything. That marked the end of an era of my life. The end of the Tree.
There once was a runner haggard and miserable, that after being lost in a meadow, a troubled, in the middle of a petrified forest by the fire found a small green glade. At the center of the clearing, a young sapling: live, green and beautiful. was love. And light and heat flowed from the meeting of the two. It enlivens water flowed at their feet and bathes the Earth that today we call Tartarus. Runner gained strength, courage and knowledge. And at the center of the clearing grew and erse the majestic tree. After a time of torment and loneliness, began the Age of Peace. LIFE LONG SHAFT! The trees thrive long, live in my heart a pledge of the bond between me and my wonderful and beloved girlfriend, whose amazing feats I've got to tell. A long-lived
the Tree, really. But not forever. Because one day, I managed to rip the covers of fear and denial and see the rust and decay of old age. One day I saw clearly that my beloved tree was dying. It was a dark day, a dark and cold wind swept the ground, and it seemed that all the leaves in Tartarus had become dry and dead.
I spoke with one who feeds the tree, we saw the whole truth about us and the end of that wonderful. Melt our votes and we were no longer a couple.
Contrary to expectations, it was a day of joy. After months of heavy and slow crawl of a relationship over, enjoying the freedom and lightness of being able to walk alone, without being lost but only ... left.
In the months to follow I got to suffer, even for the separation. Those summer afternoons spent in the fresh and fragrant shadow of the Tree I missed. I've got to understand the happiness of many, many small moments, so small and ordinary to be normal. Ah, that innocent madness! a treasure so great, even well known, yet so little appreciated. We knew that we would know one day, "after". And so it was.
Yet for me there is no regret. I have written so many horrible place, where I spoke of terrible things and painful. And other places in my mind wander. But this time, for once, I want to talk about something nice, although a bit 'sad.
The Glade is empty now, instead of the Tree there is' just a mound, a small mound of loose soil. Here and there, holes and depressions. And this is sad, it gives a sense of emptiness that shakes my throat, which breaks my voice, why waste something so precious is ... hard. You can get used to happiness, so much that they refuse to see that now you are not happier, but only wrapped up in an empty and dreary routine. Losing the status quo of "happily engaged" is very hard. We are conditioned to be happy, because happy people are happy. Why do people who feel they are happy people safe. They should not look into the dark corners of his soul. In a happy person, the demons are not asking for a pledge.
fools. The demons will accumulate in the dark. And wait.
But I was lucky. I've lived a love story that marked me deeply. For the better. She who feeds the tree has made me a better person, and although not the "love" more (only in the conventional sense), some of you will be with me forever.
This wealth has not forsaken me. E 'mine. I've lived. And even if it is not in my mind, I know it exists and that part still exists in me.
The Glade is empty. But even if the pain feels, even if they are vague endless plains of ice infested with demons, I know that in heaven there is a new plot of Tartarus of stars: the constellation of the Tree.
Since the tree and died, but has also transformed.
What a joy. What a life. Now the sky is obscured by dark clouds and hot but I know that somewhere in the constellation shining tree, are not entirely lost. I am a very rich man and lucky, in spite of everything I write in the post.
Next. Beyond the mountains. Clear
I left behind me. My stay in this region of Tartarus is over. New enemies, old demons chasing me. And the cold presses. The new era is not joyful like the one that preceded it. I think I'll talk, a lot of my meat is ready to cook on the fire of the projection.
But not tonight. Now rare in this starry night, behold the sky the sign of a great love and wonderful. The constellation of the Tree.
