Satantango

Satantango โ˜…โ˜…โ˜…โ˜…โ˜…

โ€œ๐˜๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฌ๐˜บ ๐˜ค๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ด ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜บ ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ง๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜จ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ. ๐˜ˆ๐˜ต ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜ธ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ช๐˜ต ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ป๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ, ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜จ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜ถ๐˜ฅ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ถ๐˜ฑ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ค๐˜ฌ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฑ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ, ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜ณ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ฐ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ด๐˜ฌ๐˜บ, ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ญ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ง๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฎ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜บ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ฉ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜บ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜น๐˜ต๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜บ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ต๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ. ๐˜๐˜ฆ ๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ธ ๐˜ง๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ด๐˜ช๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ง๐˜บ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ด ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ท๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ป๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ญ๐˜ช๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ, ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ง๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ.โ€

It was at the point where dusk and dawn became so inexplicably intertwined, an endless circle one might say, when I found myself in a state of discomfort at the total quietness that had followed. It was as if I was neither hopeless, nor had any hope - I remained indifferent to both. I simply watched as every irreversible second passed, every drop of the endless rain running down the window pane. But what frightened me the most was what I saw; nothing. What once was even but the smallest collective was now left but a mere desolate desert, a wasteland where not even ghosts, proof of what once had been, seemed to remain.
It was at this point that I realized how dreadfully infinite this all was - the empty landscape stretching to the horizon, the naked tree branches reaching (only reaching) up for the sky, though with little success, for they were old and weak, and heaven and earth were hopelessly clouded, divided, almost as if to ridicule the pathetic weakness of what lied down below.
No gift, nor miracle, ever poured down. Only the rain which seemed to bring whatever progress that had been made back to its starting point, each time preventing the future from ever coming. Though one had to wonder if one should blame the nature of reality itself, or one's own ignorant cowardice. Because really, we all feared death, and how ironic it is that we feared it so much we ended up renouncing life, welcoming death with open arms! We lived in such a fear of it that we did not even dare to acknowledge it. As death presented itself at our doorstep, we simply responded with a sense of (selfish) guilt, and regret was rendered only as a way to get rid of the thoughts that may come to (and perhaps already do) torment one during the bound and eternal cycles of day and night.

Waiting and waiting as time moved forward, nothing changed. It passed but it didnโ€™t go away - memories of sunny meadows faded, and the present was left not only as a subsequent constant, but as the only thing that was and will be in past and future form. Wherever one looked, it was all the same. Every thought, every action - it all fades with time, only the crumbs, the consequences, only they remain. Though they too have a fate, heading towards their inevitable demise that comes with the setting sun, where theyโ€™ll become a forgotten past, perhaps only kept alive in notebooks buried under the crumbling ground, till they disintegrate (as everything in this mortal world does) into the dust of decay that covers our land.

We lived like beasts, choosing to forget. Though saying so is insulting to the beasts themselves, as they didnโ€™t really have a choice, did they? We became so afraid of anything that means life that we ignored our choice, our choice of living with any form of dignity.
Mere animals in so called โ€œcivilizationโ€, we needed order to keep civilized, for trying to live out our freedom with a sense of conscience was too much for us to bear, yes, too much my friends. We ignored innocence, all that is good and true, salvation - because we envied how far away it seemed, how unreachable, and so weโ€™d rather stay blind before the twisted hand of fate that was so clearly unraveling before us, ignoring the whisper at the depths of our now corrupt spirit, than sit in shame wondering about our own sins.

And so we continued living, or rather, merely existing, in disharmony with the chord of our own heart and soul. Waiting, and perhaps even letting be carried away by some false hope for a better, new life - a miracle! We wondered at the light of our dreams, not recognizing that they will merely be kept as that, dreams. Yet we tried to hide from the darkness of our nightmares, knowing they were too much a reflection of waking life.
It was foolish to think that the melancholy drops of the autumn rain would ever stop, that suddenly weโ€™d find ourselves in a place where everything is paradisiacal, and nothing is constantly disintegrating, falling apart, alive - decaying. One can drink themselves away from reality as much as theyโ€™d like, remain oblivious, but do not succumb to the false illusion of passionate immortality. Only once every tick of the clock starts to mean something, only once the decaying branches of the old acacias in the middle of the cold night start seeming so inexplicably beautiful, meaningful, no matter the melancholy - only once we realize how everything is so unfathomably, yet profoundly intertwined - only then, only there, will we find life.

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