And then I was still writing. Here are some more updated texts from the archives. Where I could - I left the style so that you can see the difference with the current texts.
January 21. The story of Boy's Island.
The island was nothing special…
Or not - it was.
It was an island in an unknown and unmarked ocean, surrounded by still and barely rippling waters.
They probably didn't have any undercurrents. There are no winds above them.
Only fog, an endless fog that prevents you from seeing anything more than half a kilometer on the best of days, and half a step on the worst.
That fog was the kind that gave the island a kind of pause. Time in her seemed to stop and not move... Although it was obvious that it was moving. The boy would get up in the morning, do his daily chores, and go to sleep in the evening. It happened every day, and only the weather and daily chores changed.
There were no other inhabitants on the island except the boy. Once upon a time there were, as you can clearly tell from the remaining cities, towns, shacks and stuck and half-lit cars.
The island was full of all kinds of birds that were especially shy (it seemed normal for the boy) and animals that were even more shy.
…Well… Well, if we said that the boy was the only intelligent (smarter than, say, boar in the forest) creature on the island, we might be lying a little…
Because there were also Others living on the island.
Unfamiliar, never-knowing creatures that appear and disappear... Which the boy never understood.
January 27. What I write when I write.
Contrary to what you might think, I don't feel like I'm writing when I'm writing.
I don't even feel like talking.
I don't even feel like I'm carving words into stone, where they will remain carved forever.
…But.
When I write... I feel like I'm singing.
It's as if the bird would be louder, squealing, chirping, chirping, or otherwise letting out trills.
When I write... I feel like I'm a bird.
Small, not particularly spotted, but fond of chirping. Like a sparrow or similar bird.
January 28. Morning Mail [censored].
I'm just reminding you that it would be great to hear from you today. So that you don't have to come up with it yourself. c:
You know, I feel bad for asking you like that.
I understand that you don't want to think. Dizzy. That it is difficult and painful for you to do this...
…But I'm human too. However, I have been communicating with you for four months now, I have been writing open and endless letters to solve problems... But you hardly ever take the time to answer my thoughts with your own. Well, yes, I see that sometimes you spend the energy to write back (instead of sleeping or getting drunk)... But most of the time you still answer my questions with "maybe"... And that basically means nothing...
And I don't know if you do that because you want me to make decisions or because you don't want to think and regret it later. Are you careful not to share your thoughts with me, or do you just not like it because you don't want to communicate.
I don't know, maybe it was common among your friends, family and ex-lovers that when they try to talk to you, if you answer, you answer that it's too difficult to answer... Maybe it's really natural for you.
But at least I… In case you're wondering, of course I'm being disrespectful about it.
Well, neither your friend, nor your lover, nor who knows, I do not feel.
And I understand that you need time, that you like to communicate slowly, that the most important thing is to be open and happy, like best friends... And god, I love it all!
But I'm tired of your mystery... It's too much, too much.
In that sense, my God, how am I supposed to understand you, when after I write, you disappear from neither this nor that for half a week... However, you play happily on Facebook, and in the evenings, free from work, you do witchcraft? When one moment you send nice sms (Albeit in the "mau" style), and the next you don't respond anymore? When you ask me to write a letter, and after writing you say that it is too difficult for you to think, you will think about it later... But then you did not do what you promised?
Well, in a word. Do you get what I'm talking about? c:
…Answer yes and we will continue our adventure. I will be happy to get at least one answer from you. I will be able to become a free and childlike Daniel again, as I am with my girlfriends. Say no and I'll forget you. You will be able to do what you once suggested and disappear unnoticed.
Answer maybe - and I will make the decision. It's true... I don't know how much it will be in your favor, because I'm also human and I want to protect myself from wasting my energy and time. When I do, I do it with all my heart... And I want that if I communicated with you, you would also desire it. So that I don't constantly feel like I'm writing/talking/asking/giving/interesting/doing too much oo
Um
Somehow it got too serious and too long... It shouldn't have been like that 😀
still writing
Daniel