Woke up too early in my count. It was 6:15AM and I was still awake. I watched how light emerged slowly on my window curtain, illuminating the blue darkness outside. It was an awful feeling, knowing you’d have to be awake in a couple of hours.
So, I woke up to messages that demanded I be awake and turn on my computer. I need to do some additional booking from the making of itineraries yesterday.
I let myself be distracted with emails and other networking sites. Razi made an entry worthy of a repost. So, here it is:
I choose my friends not by their skin or other archetype, but by the pupil.
They have to have questioning shine and unsettled tone.
I’m not interested in the good spirits or the ones with bad habits.
I’ll stick with the ones that are made of me being crazy and blessed.
From them, I don’t want an answer, I want to be reviewed.
I want them to bring me doubts and fears and to tolerate the worst of me.
But that only being crazy.
I want saints, so they daunt doubt differences and ask for forgiveness for injustices.
I choose my friends for their clean face and their soul exposed.
I don’t just want a man or a skirt, I also want his greatest happiness.
A friend that doesn’t laugh together doesn’t know how to cry together.
All my friends are like that, half foolish, half serious.
I don’t want foreseen laughter or cries full of pity.
I want serious friends, those that make reality their fountain of knowledge, but that fight to keep fantasy alive.
I don’t want adult or boring friends.
I want half kids and half elderly.
Kids, so they don’t forget the value of the wind blowing on their faces and elderly people so they’re never in a hurry.
I have friends to know who I am.
Then seeing them as clowns and serious, crazy and saints, young and old, I will never forget that ‘normalcy’ is a sterile and imbecile illusion.
Crazy and Saints, Oscar Wilde
And I particularly liked what Razi wrote after the end of the poem. He said,
Because in real life and in social networking sites alike, the “Edit Friends” function doesn’t allow you to change the person, only to accept them or not.
I agree, wholeheartedly.
But. There are always “buts” about friendships and acceptance.
I’ve learned that the hard way.