The Hand

I rarely accept spontaneous invitations

The Hand:

I rarely accept spontaneous invitations. I rarely commit conscious actions.

When she offered her hand, I didn’t accept it, yet still I followed her lead without further objections. How I’ve always done, indifferent, never saying yes or no, but silently consenting and letting the circumstances pave my path.

And where have they taken me? I wouldn’t know, and wouldn’t wanna know either. Why?

All generic life-advice seems to advice finding direction, in order to achieve goals and objectives. I find myself desiring everything all at once, but at the same time not desiring anything in particular; I wish to travel, but I don’t know where, I wish to love but I don’t know with whom?

So when she extended her hand to me, it seemed to be the best hand to clench. But who’s hand was this I held in mine? Maybe I already know, or maybe I don't want to know. Why?

I had accepted a spontaneous quest not out of will or desire, but perhaps rather because I had nothing else to do.

And then, in the same place where she had entered my life, granted me her hand, she disappeared. The same way she had appeared, she vanished forever.
And I am still standing here — I don’t know where else I can go.

Cover art: Two Human Beings (The Lonely Ones) by Edvard Munch, 1905