While reading can’t change anything, the received information gives taste to our daily bread.
The ‘Cost of the truth’ was sticked to the front page, and it wasn’t done accidentally. The question “What for do I look through my window?” helps greatly in answering is it worthy talking at all: what use will bring my sharing. The self-examination so edit my diaries to blogging. You need just to replace all my “I”s with your personal names.
… if I will confess: “I’m writing with the dictionary in hand and thus my sentences aren’t plain enough”, that will be the truth, yet what would be said in the concrete? WHAT FOR will serve such knowledge?
In case our hands became dirty, we wash them for not to fear to sit at the table, but wholeheartedly rejoice at a meal. The same fits to the fruits of our lips. So, in case I don’t know how to say something in English, I can address Google translator for the help, meanwhile even the hearty talking about my ignorance of English wouldn’t improve a bit my language.
I turned around and sat back in awe towards the eloquence of the autumn. The leaves were falling down and the beauty was just awesome. The colors just put me under a charm. Yet was that the goal of the beauty? Did the treas were to grow for a whole year just for the decoration of the dirt underfoot?
As I was at school, there were a little time to talk – I had the task to learn and there were no need to think about what am I doing. The situation changed totally at a moment I became the disabled – I became free from all my duties…the only question bothers me at a moment – what for am I writing (painting…thinking -breathing)?
I put on my best suit for to take the dustbin out. I walked out and so the old women who were chattering on a bench in the backyard of my house got one more picture to discuss. I moved proudly – my actions decorated my world and thus my life wasn’t meaningless, but the presentation of my best suit.
Wow, the mysteries appear when the the diary reports mix with the literature, yet the essence remains the same, isn’t it? Or need I to write the haiku for my words could become worthy to think?