By Gabriela García Landa, Photography Eloisa García Guerrero
So much for living a normal life, so much for meaning. So much for respect, and so little for playing, for fun, for being different. So much for reality, for truth, and so little for invention, for questioning. What is even real? Maybe nothing is, and we still silence those who point out how obsolete we all are. How we are no more than ideas, dreams taken for granted, illusions we believe are substantial.
So little for dreaming. Even when our dreams might be the most tangible matter we own in this absurd existence we work so hard to figure out. And, for what? The truth should never be analyzed, just accepted. It is what it is, and I truly believe we are only our real selves when we are dreaming… when we are playing, when we are wearing a mask to protect us. Only then.
So much for seriousness. We get so lost in seriousness. But, honestly, who on earth told us we had to take our selves so severely? Our nature is so colorful, and yet we’ve turned so terrifyingly grey. We’ve accepted a life of dullness, of sadness. We’ve forgotten our fantasies… or tried to.
They always come back at night. We can’t escape our imaginative essentiality; our reality. We could never escape. Even when we’ve become expert runners… fighting so strongly to get away. Never succeeding.
I’ve said it before. When we go to sleep at night, we let our guard down. Color creeps in. In the midst of darkness, and exhaustion we forget about who we think we are supposed to be, no matter how hard we try to hold on to it.
When the lights are out, our demons appear, and if we are lucky they get to dance with our guardian angels. That choreography is our personal brand of self. I absolutely adore this love game between my ghosts. Sometimes I can’t sleep watching them go. It’s simply radiant. Chaos is magnificent. Vulnerability. Rawness. Humanity. Good. Evil. The naked truth, the whole ridiculous, and cuestionable truth.
Seeing all these, in full understanding of who I actually am, I think I become beautiful too, just as radiant; transparent. That’s why, when I first realized this, I made a vow to myself: I would never again lose the meaning of life by trying to figure it out. Instead I would create it. Dance all day, sweat my soul out, cry, laugh, play, dream… not only at night.
It’s working pretty good for me so far. I urge you to try it, to let yourself go, join us crazies, and misfits, us rebels. We live the life you dream of when you stop pretending to be important. It’s scary. It’s wonderful. It’s as real as it gets.