Monday, August 24, 2009
People will say it is just smoke in your eyes. What you see is not there, it cannot be if you are the only one seeing it. People forget that one pair of eyes is not like another and what appears for you can hide for everybody else. It’s a mystery like many other things. I see things every day, everywhere, and people keeps telling me it is just smoke, I smile and nod, because they don’t understand, that what is just smoke for then is already a fire for me. People call it a sixth sense, I call it my little voice, the one that tells me when to stop even if the light is green. Sometimes I look at people and see more than they show and I know it's just smoke, but not for me. You can live your entire life doubting your instincts, but one day or another you need to surrender. I am old now and I don’t mind people telling me I am seeing just smoke, I do my part, I show the smock rising, but I can’t make others seeing more than fumes rising from nowhere.