Spring blues

by on Wednesday, 23 February 2011 Comments

Lanterns can’t breathe in the night, they scout the darkness but the waves shake the boat and leave them trembling, not sure if they will make it this time, as if shackled to the ocean, holding their breath for the sky to appear.

The air is light and darkness could vanish, they feel it and keep struggling, if they could... only... just a little... bit more... hope is burning now, light is less cold already.

The air is charged with mysterious scents, crystals of salt furiously splashing from the sea, glittering all around under the moon, warm, licking his face in despair. Is the ocean friendly, is it greeting him indeed? He has no way of knowing, the particles of water are just murmuring in his ear, but all is calm, sounds reach far away, the seagulls on the bridge, the muscles of the turbines carrying him safely, straight ahead, he still remembers the sound of water pouring into a cup of coffee, the dark liquid releasing the comforting, familiar smell of burnt plastic, all the world of humans suddenly in his hand. He smiles indifferently, stuck between this cup of nothing and the vast instable lands around him.

A tune is playing in his mind. At first, nothing, then, a wooden lacquered keyboard, black and white, simple, as he likes it. The notes come very slowly, cautiously, preciously, and, in the darkness, made shy by this new freedom, they only reluctantly start lilting to his ear, in a clear, high, standard pitch. They congratulate each other and let the air grab them, a golden spiral embroidered with all the trust of the world, and they laugh, sometimes gracefully packed together, and sometimes separated again. It goes on, and on, the air that had been started plays over the outside sounds now, almost too quickly for the waves to follow the bass, up, down and again, with variations, with peace, with happiness. All around, it is still quiet, he can hear the smoke over his coffee, and he feels this smoke wants to dance, too.

He feels the world moving around him, a rare harmony between night and morning, and the music is preparing his heart to beat faster. Faster for what? Suddenly, he wishes he could stay there, on the boat, encouraging the lanterns, watching the dark masses around him, listening to these notes he likes; he wouldn’t care for the future, he would stay here, Somewhere, the place he can call home, and let the roots blossom into his heart, irrigate his mind, turn his veins red.

And spring is there in the young morning, nothing in itself, merely a passage towards another youth, towards wisdom, towards hope, possibilities made alive and life made possible. But going where? Before he boarded the ship, he left everything he ever had, everyone he ever knew, without a backward glance. He let the elements carry him, he went further, and the oceans put tears in his eyes and music gold in his ears. Now spring is here, he raises his head, and just smiles.

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Benoît Girardot

I'm Benoit, a French guy, arrived in Taiwan around 5 years ago, and it's already hard to remember what I did in my old life! Maybe I lived in Germany? I used to have a weird job, selling breast implants all around Asia, but I quit and am now learning Chinese. I love Taiwan, and I don't really have any words to describe why Taipei is such a cool city... so I'm taking pictures instead.

I have a blog about Taiwan, the idea is to get a deeper understanding of Taiwan-as a foreigner, with language barrier and all kinds of pre-conceived ideas, it is not always an easy task! I post a mic of pictures, videos, articles about the cool people and things I meet on the island! You're welcome to come have a look by yourself!

Website: litanies.net/blog/

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