DREAM / The Prime Minister resigns and wakes up under the Parisian bridge!

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PLAGUE

2023-02-12 16:06:06Pikëpamje SHKRUAR NGA MONIKA STAFA

PLAGUE

When you lie, you don't have to think about gambling with your luck. Especially when the lie has flown and reached the ears of the people around you, and you try desperately to cope with it.

It's best to think that sometimes the only way to fight a lie is to face it. We must fully convince ourselves that no one can go on living with a lie at hand.

Never. And not forever. As much as any of us could wish for.

It happens that just when you think that everything is forgotten and nothing can hurt you, more new wounds are opened, wounds that you didn't even know were there. For this reason, the consequences they cause are often more unpredictable than the wounds we know.

That is why before we take any step, we must make sure that we are prepared for any eventuality.

There are some signs in our life story that remind us where we wanted to be; how high or what purpose we had...

Whether we succeeded or not? Does it make us dirty or clean us? If you honor us or what? If it increases us or decreases us? If it gives us joy or sadness? If it brings us taste or hunger? If it was done with love or loathing? If it angered or amused us? If it has caused us every possible thing that a living person experiences!

As there are others, which remind us of dark spots on us that we would not like to have anymore...

A series of sad events...

It always happens. And he can't escape.

*
Some positive changes were recognized since the beginning of time since the change of the political system in Albania. Retrospective reviews of what happened in December 1990 brought new insights. Turns out there were more documents than you thought to reconstruct time as it was. It turned out that the most beautiful part of the Decemberists had started to write memories very early and that history had kept its notes. This was not enough, but a part of the truth, the unknown had been silenced, opposed and stubbornly excluded for years and decades.

And neither less nor more a positive process took place: nothing was kept hidden about the past. She had to speak with her own language, with the language of official correspondence, with the language of images, with the language of written testimony. When a society decides to move from memories to documents, it is the same as having decided to move from folklore to knowledge. The change is qualitative, but how much truth is there in these statements and contradictions?

*
So we confess. The time that passes makes us confess what at the beginning many lied to us for any reason, for any circumstance and for any excuse.

Stories that reveal other loves that until now were hidden behind the shelves of the library, where the treasure of a family's memories lies... a mountain of notebooks and papers, large and small files.

All with one name. Each name with its own story. Everyone, everyone as much as he had confessed and how he had confessed. But there are also old files that contain the confessions of another, as he remembers them from the confessions of others.

In the files and the times within them if we can separate them, no part weighs more than the other. This is the philosophy where the stories of a past, distant and recent time are housed, where I or you can be the protagonist. You can't always hear them made up in words. But nevertheless, all of them have the power of confession and do not let you forget them.

It is difficult for a child to understand such a distant time. But with the photograph and the document, the work is different. It's easier for you to read. So I begrudgingly followed him when he came across a series of black and white photographs of people from a time even more distant than his.

Every face had a name. Every name, a story.

And today, when you see them, I don't know why you have the feeling to pronounce their names under your breath. Because for you they are more than pictures. Recognizing each other's voices, you recognize their love in caressing words and continue to love them naturally.

Anyone who is young does not worry about things that are no longer the interest of the day. Such as these photos, events, stories or scars if there are any.

So I often ask myself, why does man keep so many evidences of a distant time?

Why do we always want to confess? For the fun things in life but also the wounds that open?

Maybe because we think?

But even without it, the magic remains. Who is she?

The more you think, the more you want to know.


Në përputhje me standarded JTI

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