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The crossroad

The crossroad

To go or to stay.
To change or to carry on.
To look for or to forget.
If only it were that easy!
If only it were that simple!
If only it were that right!
It happens to everybody, continuously, in every field, at all stages.
Because life is a maze and a maze, you know, is made of crossroads and blind alleys. And of illusions, too: optical, perspective, and perceptual ones.
Do you also feel heavy legs and weak arms at a crossroads?
Do you feel tired even before taking the first step?
Even if curiosity arouses yourself, even if you’ve got the desire.
Crossroads are done for this reason. For playing your head against your stomach and your heart.
For making one of them to win over the other two. You know, existence is a role play: today the head prevails, tomorrow is the stomach’s turn and another day the winner is the heart. Or the heart is the loser.
Since it is never in the middle road. It is high sky or it is shattered into pieces.
An even if it defeats head and stomach, it risks losing against itself, against the risk it’s taking, against the too high stake, against love that is blind, deaf, stubborn and, sometimes, even quite bastard.
But, you know, crossroads are fascinating with their Kubrick-style main prospective, with a blurred background, like in a 1950’s movie, with this deafening silence that
make you hear the beating, you own beating.

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