29. Beauty in chaos

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(Song: Coldplay - Miracles)

     ''Are you telling me it's your birthday?''




    I rubbed my eyes, frowning. When Noemi burst into my room with a giant smile on her face, she caught me by surprise still lying in bed. I didn't expect her to come over, especially at 11 am. Yes, maybe the majority of people would be already awake at 11am, but I wasn't part of that majority. I was one of those people who gave themselves the pleasure of staying under the blankets on a Saturday morning.  

    Saturday, February 7th. Apparently today was Noemi's birthday. I didn't know if I should be happy that she was finally sixteen like me, or if I had to be angry at her because she hadn't warned me earlier.  

    ''Why didn't you tell me?'' I asked with a sleepy voice, uncovering the blanket and sitting up. ''I would have bought you something.''

    She gasped, maybe distracted by my almost naked body. I tried to hide my grin, but it was cute seeing her so nervous. She was cute. After the sudden blush, she tried to focus again and looked away.  

    ''That's exactly why,'' she said, ''I didn't want you to buy me anything. Birthdays aren't about gifts.''

    ''Right. I was actually thinking of writing you a song or something.''

    Her eyes sparkled and I smiled teasingly, ''but if you say no gifts, then no gifts.''

    She furrowed her eyebrows and bit her lip, probably regretting those words.  

    ''Well, you can always write me a song,'' she said, ''I have no problem with that.''

    I smiled at her innocent childishness, she was particularly adorable today. I stood up and stepped towards her, our proximity made her shiver. She was much more nervous than usual, and I guess that had something to do with me wearing only my Calvin Klein's.  

    I put my hands on her cheeks and kissed her softly. ''Happy Birthday, love.''

    With shaking shoulders and trembling lips, she looked at me and smiled. She ran her fingers through my ruffled hair and sat on the bed. My room was almost as messy as my wandering mind. I put on a white Adidas sock, but I still had to find the second one. When I started walking around looking for it, Noemi watched me with amusement.  

    ''So what's the plan?'' I said. ''The weather is shitty and it's fucking raining outside.''

    ''I think it's just perfect.''

    I looked at her interrogatively, interrupting my quest. The sky was depressingly grey and the rain was depressingly cold. But of course, of course she thought it was all perfect. She was Noemi Defelice, I should have been already used to her optimism.  

    ''Let's go the beach!'' she suddenly proposed.  

    Now I furrowed my eyebrows even more. I wanted to say it was a crazy idea, but the excitement in her eyes made me change my mind. After about half an hour, we were already walking under the pouring rain, protected by a small umbrella. Noemi was wearing a yellow raincoat and I was wearing my usual green parka.

There was no one at the beach, just like I expected. I didn't want to get too close to the sea since it looked pretty scary. But Noemi, being the free-spirited soul that she was, ran towards it like a little child. As I followed her, the strong wind made the umbrella flip inside out and broke it. I awkwardly tried to close it and then I simply left it on the ground.

    Once I reached Noemi, I found her looking at the sea. Astonished, amazed, captivated. Her eyes were focused on the violent waves. And indeed, they were fascinating. They curled and rolled with a phenomenal energy and then they smashed and crashed against the naked rocks. A heavy explosion of pure white that devastated everything it touched, with no hesitation and no mercy. A tenacious, relentless force of nature, unstoppable and infinite. No matter how terrifying, it was breathtaking.

And we laughed. We laughed like there was no tomorrow and no yesterday. We laughed simply because we could. Because it was our essence, our necessity. Because we were standing on an empty beach and we were there. Present. Alive. Witnessing a revolutionary masterpiece of nature.

No need of fireworks exploding in the sky, a thousand artificial lights fading into smoke. No need of music, no need of funny substances that burn my stomach. There was an innate rhythm beating in my heart and my stomach was already all twirled.

And yes, maybe my thoughts had been the thoughts of others and maybe the butterflies inside of me danced to the choreography of other people and other moments. But I felt it. I felt the wind against my face, the sea against our laughter. My skin electrified, my legs trembled, my heart was like a seagull in the sky. And I knew that I wasn't exceptional and I wasn't a revolution, but in that moment I wished I could scream so loud my voice would reach every house, every field, every desert. I wished I could share with humanity the beauty of chaos and the beauty of love. I wanted to be a writer and I wanted to be a poet and when I looked at Noemi and the ocean, I knew that I'd become one. I knew it was my destiny because I chose it and I felt the word poet in every fibre of my every single bone.

Now I had a dream. No, not a dream – a mission. To discover the world and put it down on paper and through those words discover myself. Some people killed themselves for poetry. And although it was the same poetry I loved, instead of dying I would live for it. How could they choose to leave the theatre when this beautiful and tragic and silly show was at the peak of its performance? I'd rather bleed, I'd rather fall and dirt myself in mud than stand there all comfortable and unambitious. I'd rather be down in the abyss than be above it and look down. I'd rather crack and break and crumble, for a dream and for a purpose, instead of breathing pointlessly until I die.

What's so witty about laughing at someone who is trying? Someone who is attempting of pursuing greatness. Greatness that we all secretly seek, that we all dream at night. Greatness that will leave a bitter taste in our mouths when we grow old, when our last breath is as forgotten as our names, our words, our history. When our bodies can't move anymore and our souls are too tired. When we have empty memories of empty moments with people that weren't the people we wished to be surrounded by. What's so cool about ignorance? Living a boring superficial life admiring pretty faces on the TV screen while wasting away the nanosecond that is our life. It's insignificant, they say. Well, that's the fucking point! If we're so small in this gigantic universe, what's stopping us from being infinite, from being brave? It's not about money or power or any other bullshit. It's about doing something meaningful in this meaningless world. It's about turning that little flame inside of you into a fucking bonfire. Who cares if it's just ashes once you die? You don't burn to be remembered or to be admired. You burn because it feels good and it's the only thing that makes you feel alive.

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