Escape from the Origin
Finally, my grandfather's grandchildren did their thing. They made me homeless.
Whatever comes, will eventually go. The only place I had and could stay was my grandfather's house. His grandchildren took this house from me. In the end, I had to pack my bags and become a homeless person on the streets.
Where should I go?
Who should I stay with?
Who will accept me in their house?
I had no choice but to sell all the furniture in the house. All I had was a suitcase. I wanted to take it with me somewhere and live there. But I had also lost my job.
It's been a while since the lasso accident. Unfortunately, he doesn't remember me. I really don't know what to do now. My luggage has become just a suitcase. Now the lasso is no longer one of my possessions. It's like he's become a different person. He has forgotten me and does not remember me at all.
Literary words cannot express my broken state. No matter how much I put words together, the words still lose their color.
My mind is destroyed. I cannot focus it on one subject.
My mind crumbles like crumpled paper. In an instant, its canopy falls apart and spreads across the wall.
The sprout of sentences in my head dries up. It breaks like a plant in the desert and continues its pathless path in this wilderness of life. Where is the destination? I really do not know. I only know that there is a destination. I do not know where it is and in which direction it is pulling me. It just pulls me. It does not care how tired and weak I am. It just goes ahead and crushes me like a glass man.
The meaning is heavy. Maybe meaningless. Maybe aimless and without rebellion.
My whole being is at the beginning of this winding path. Life is turbulent like a silkworm cocooning itself on a willow tree.
Wishes have become wishless. There is no longer a wish in people's minds to dedicate themselves to and survive this path.
The only bond tied to this world is an untied bond. This bond is not connected to anywhere. Except for the umbilical cord that is cut at birth.
In an instant, I broke down. I coiled myself like a snake and understood nothing. Not from my surroundings, not from my thoughts.
My whole being broke down in one day and one hour.
The fiery green flashes of this terrible plain evoke the barking of stray dogs. The sound of a wind that blows from the east and never calms down. This wind twists and destroys my whole being.
All the dry is wet. All the wet is dry. All legends are empty, except for their contradiction.
My whole being is empty and devoid of content. Like a book with blank pages whose end is invisible.
Only the tobacco of a cigarette keeps me calm. I know that this peace is not permanent. With the end of each cigarette, I need this peace again.
Have you ever not wanted to possess someone, but loved them from the bottom of your heart and from the depths of your being?
This is the love that has manifested itself in my inner layers and is hurting me more than ever.
This is the love that manifests itself without hiding. It only burns your being with its burning heat. It ignites a flame and is forgotten on the western shores of the heart.
It seems that today is a little different from other days. Every day I wake up, I make it through the night hoping that tomorrow will be a better day. But that day is just as painful and boring as any other day.
My only joy is that my friends drop by from time to time to see if I'm alive or not.
I'm sitting and looking outside the house.
I've been searching for a spot of light in the dark well of my life for a while now. I still hope to find that miraculous spot in this darkness.

But it seems there is no hope. My hope tank is empty. Like the end of a cigarette, only ashes remain and it is all burned.
All the doors are closed. There is no path but the path forward through the darkness. No door is open.
Despair and despair are surging through my life.
The days have become so similar that I confuse them. It seems like I am now in the same place I was a year ago. My only achievement has been nothing.
It seems like my life is spent at a station where I constantly look at my watch. I wait for the bus to arrive and take me to nowhere.
Unaware that the more I look at the clock, the more I torment myself. The hands have dried up like wilted flowers in a garden. The ignorant bus does not come in the end.
Indifferent passers-by pass by me. Without paying attention to me. Just like moving ice blocks.
My friends are like passersby. They sit at the station, talk to me for a while, and then leave. After a while, I come to my senses and see that there is no trace of them. They are all gone.
I rarely know anyone who has sat next to me at this station of life and waited for the bus of life until the end of the journey.
So far, everything has gone relatively well. I have collected myself like a piece of glass from the ground. It is not bad. It is passing. The only good thing about the story is that at least it is passing. Not late, not early. It is just passing.
Now I am in a strange state of semi-consciousness. Life is pulling me this way and that.
I am bored at home. I don’t know what to do. Everything has become more and more boring and not worth enduring.
It is as if the future becomes meaningless and meaningless in an instant. Life cannot be endured.
My only pastime is the rusty window in my room. It rattles when I open it and it scratches my soul.
My only pleasure is to smoke a cigarette and watch people grazing in this society. Then I close the window, go to my bed and take a nap until the end of the night. I stay awake at night and suffer from insomnia.
The doorbell rang. I had to leave my usual view and go to the door to see who it was.
Whoever it was, had left my daily routine.
You reckless intruder!
I opened the door slowly. It was my old and kind friend, Xanyar. You lovely intruder!
In the desert of no one, even this lame friend is a prize.
Samyar: Hello Xanyar, how are you? Did you get lost here?
Xanyar: Hello Sami, thank you. I am fine. What are you doing?
He hasn't broken his habit yet. Whenever he comes across someone with a long name, he shortens it. He also shortens my name, wretch. Whenever he comes across us, he calls me Sami.
I don't know when he'll break this bad habit.
My behavior and mood were extremely artificial.
I said: Nothing. Me too. Thank God, we're alive.
I hate repeating clichés. I like to fill in the gaps of old words with new ones. But I always fail at this.
Xanyar: Sami, why is your face so disheveled and disheveled? It's as if a car has run over you several times!
I said to myself: "They're starting to get on my nerves again. If your love hadn't remembered you and you were homeless, you would have become like me. Is that a question?"
I remained silent and just shook my head.
The interesting thing is that he seemed to know what was wrong with me. I hadn’t told anyone this story. I’ve been experiencing repeated deja vu for a long time. Everything seems familiar to me. Of course, there’s a strange aura between the two. I don’t know if it’s the past or the future.
Xanyar: Sami! I’m with you. Why aren’t you answering?
Samiar: Huh? Nothing. It’s nothing special. I just thought about it for a few moments.
Xanyar: I’m telling you, why are you so upset?
Samiar: Oh, I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to sleep properly for a few nights. Because of what you know yourself.
Xanyar: Are you sure?
When he said the word “are you sure,” his eyebrows furrowed.
Samiar: Yes, Dad. Don’t worry. What happened? You mentioned the poor of the poor?
Xanyar: I was passing by your door. I thought I’d drop by, you heartbroken lover.
Samyar: Oh, Dad, don't touch my heart. Why don't you come inside? Come in. At least we can find a cup of tea or coffee in our ruined hut.
Xanyar: I don't want to be disturbed.
Samyar: No, Dad, what's the matter? I'm sorry, son. Come in.
Xanyar: Okay.

I didn't tell Xanyar that I had been hanging myself with cigarette nicotine for days. But the smell of cigarettes in the house gave everything away.
Xanyar: What a bad smell! What did you do, Dad? You suffocated me!
I stammered to him, "It's nothing."
But I could tell from his eyes that he had taken the scents of a story and that everything had become a painting.
Meanwhile, the street lamp flickered through the crack in the window, covered in dust. As if the bulb had been misplaced or was burning out.
I tried to focus my attention on Xanyar. As usual, he was talking about hope for life and all this nonsense. I was confused when I heard this. I couldn't concentrate. With a few artificial nods, I pretended to accept what he was saying.
Is it anything other than that life is completely black?
I told Xanyar: Yes, yes. I made my way to the kitchen to pour myself and Zanyar some tea. Zanyar was also talking about the beauty of life for a moment.
Oh, you wretched teapot! This teapot is so dirty and caked with grime that its stench is sickening. It smells like an airplane vomit bag.
I washed the teapot as much as I could with dish soap. But the dirt was still dripping off it.
I cleaned the teapot with difficulty.
My main problem with Zanyar is that he loves tea. But I don’t like tea at all. My taste is more compatible with cigarettes and coffee.
I still make coffee for myself with the same little copper coffee pot my grandfather had. Drinking it drowns me in my loneliness.
Oh, I said, my grandfather. May God bless his soul. I don’t know where he is now.
Anyway, this is life. We have no role in coming or going from it. Our only choice is what to eat or what to do.
Xanyar: Sami, am I wrong?
Samiar: Why, why. Everything you say is true.
Xanyar: It seems you weren't paying attention to me at all.
Samiar: Why, Dad, I was listening. I was just distracted by washing the teapot.
Xanyar: Come on, Dad, I don't want tea. I just came to see you and leave.
Samiar: No, Dad, that's not right!
Xanyar: Let me see, are you still waiting?
Samiar: Yes, buddy. I've spent my whole life with this girl. How can I forget her?
Xanyar: But she completely forgot about you after the accident.
Samiar: Wow, it's not her fault. Xanyar, I love that girl!
Xanyar: Yes, I see how bad your house smells. The smell of cigarettes is rising from every corner of your house. What's the end of it? Do you want to stay in this house for the rest of your life, smoking and drinking coffee?
Samyar: No, Dad, they took this house from me too. Now I have no place to drink coffee and smoke. Eventually, I'll go to the same old hangout for coffee and cigarettes. The same wooden cafe.
Xanyar: What's the end of it? Do you want to live with the memory of the lasso for the rest of your life?
Samyar: I don't know.

Xanyar: Let me see, where do you want to stay anyway?
Xanyar: Do you want to come to our house.
Samyar: No, Dad, Daisy's door is open. I can stay at your house for at least two days. I can't stay there forever until my situation improves.
Xanyar: Okay, whatever. I won't insist too much. But think about yourself. Your situation is very bad. I didn't think it would be like this at all.
Samyar: Okay, Xanyar, please don't worry about it now.
Xanyar: What's up with Lamand? Hasn't he been able to remember you yet?
Samyar: No, unfortunately. No matter how much I tell him about our old memories, he doesn't remember anything. What the hell am I going to do? It was my whole life. I shouldn't have lost it.
Xanyar: Don't worry, Samy. Don't worry. Everything will be fine.
Samyar: Oh, Dad, it's the same old cliché. Otherwise, everything has gotten worse and worse since the beginning of our lives. How can it be fixed? Can you tell me and make me understand?
Xanyar: I don't know what to say. I think this is the least people say to someone when they see them disappointed. Otherwise, this sentence won't heal the pain.
Samyar: So please don't give me any more hope.
Xanyar: Okay.
I leaned towards the table a little. I picked up my cup of coffee. Along with the coffee, I lit my cigarette to make me feel better.
Xanyar: Oh, Dad, you're lighting a cigarette every time you smoke!
Samyar: What can I do? This alone calms me down. Do you even understand what I'm saying?
Xanyar: I'm telling you to stop. Don't do this. Whether you kill or not, it doesn't matter.
Samyar: Leave me alone, dad. Haven't I been alive once more in this world of filth? This is from my work, this from my grandfather, this from the lasso. I have nothing left! Do you think I have any left?
Xanyar: Sami, this is not the way!
Samyar: I don't know.
I started drinking coffee and took a whiff of a cigarette. It was unclear whether the coffee tasted like cigarettes or the cigarettes tasted like coffee.
A little later, Xanyar left me and left. I thought to myself for a while. Where should I go when I leave this apartment?
No place came to mind. I just stared at the clock on the wall. It was as if I was trapped between the hands of the clock. I couldn't even think about what to do with these circumstances.
Just stared at the clock on the wall.
After a few minutes, a thought occurred to me. At least I'll have shelter while I'm homeless.
I had to call my old friend Theodore. He was preparing to become a priest. He wasn’t quite a priest yet. But out of respect, we called him Father Theodore.
Samyar: Hello, hello Father Theo, how are you?
Theodore: Hello, hello. God bless you. Thank you, I’m fine. How are you, Samyar?
Samyar: Thank you, I’m fine too, thank God.
Theodore: We haven’t spoken for a long time.
Samyar: That’s right. But lately I’ve been involved in a lot of things. Now I’ve had to bother you again.
Theodore: My dear! I’m ready to do anything I can to help you.
Samyar: To tell the truth, they’ve been kicking me out of my grandfather’s house for a while.
Theodore: Dad, why?
Samyar: Nothing, dad. After my grandfather passed away, my grandchildren started looking for an inheritance. Since I was at my grandfather’s house, I stayed here. Now they want to take over this house too. I have nowhere to stay.
Theodore: It’s okay. You can come to my house. My door is open to all God-fearing people.
Samyar: So I’m not really bothering you?
Theodore: No, dad, what’s the matter? You’re my friend too. You come here, I’ll get over my loneliness too.
Samyar: Let me see, is your delicious coffee still on the way?
Theodore: Yes, brother, we have coffee too. Come whenever you want, old friend.
Samyar: Sure, with pleasure.
When I opened my eyes in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. What I was waiting for happened. My grandfather’s grandchildren came with an officer to throw me out of the house.
All my belongings were packed in a suitcase. Without answering the officer, I picked up my suitcase. I left my grandfather’s house with all its memories and went to my good friend Theo.
Anyway, things could have been worse. At least I didn't have the lasso with me. Or maybe I wouldn't have survived this accident.
Samyar: Hi Theo!

Theodore: Hello brother, welcome. Consider this your home.
Samyar: I'm ashamed that I had to bother you.
Theodore: No, what's the matter? I told you that I'm lonely here too. Since I entered the clergy of the church, I have to live alone and I don't have the right to marry.
Samyar: What a strange ceremony!
Theodore: Let's go. I made you coffee because I knew you were tired.
Samyar: Wow, thank you very much. I really needed a coffee right now. Especially since you made it!
Theodore: You're welcome. I'll go and pour the coffee into the cups.
Samyar: Should I put my things in this room?
Theodore: Yes, leave them in that room. That other room is yours.
From the atmosphere of the house, it was clear that everything was clean. There was no dust. The smell of incense had created a special atmosphere in the house. I quickly got used to the house and considered it my own. But I couldn’t smoke whenever I wanted anymore.
Everything was going well. My father sat down next to me and said, “Well, let me see what you’re up to, old friend.”
My heart was full of everything. I started to open up to Theo. I told him about the lasso accident and his forgetfulness, about my grandfather’s death, whose only inheritance was that little house, about me being thrown out by my grandparents’ grandchildren, and about losing my job.
After hearing what I said, he smiled strangely. He stood up and said, “Wait, buddy, just wait. Listen to the voice in your heart. Wait until God gives you what you want.”
That’s what he said. He put the coffee cup on the tray. He took the tray off the table and took it to the sink to wash.
I also started to relax on Theo’s sofa. I closed my eyes. I didn’t understand anything. It was as if I was drowning in the smell of incense.