We are made of the stories no one else can tell for us

Some encounters do not happen by chance. Even when everything seems to keep people apart, quiet forces bring them together in writing, in words, or simply in a comment lost in the flow of social media.

This text was born from one of those encounters.

A comment left by Joyner Sarkas Omar under a video of a performance by Slava Polunin.

A comment that, through its depth and intensity, stopped being a mere reaction and became a reflection. Something that no longer belongs only to the context in which it appeared, but to the wider territory of human thought.

“Perhaps life is about emotions, not the body”

so often we spend a whole life trying to be understood. perhaps the meaning of life comes down to stories — the ones only we can tell, the ones only we can feel on waking and on dying.

the wound of self-destruction, of self-deception, of self-sadness, of self-acceptance, of self-death, of self-judgement.

we look for cures in our emotional masses. at every stage of life we try to heal our own stories — good or bad, sad or happy, of pain or of fulfilment.

but always heal, and accept with wisdom that the self moves mountains, moves skies; that the self matters more than they do.

perhaps life is made of emotions, not of body. perhaps the stories we will tell until the end matter more than what we are in the moment. perhaps life is made of memories, not of body.

and when we reach a hundred, perhaps we will realise that we have travelled a true story of emotions.

just as the river follows its natural course, let us simply be ourselves — without bending into shapes that box us in, without becoming beings without memories…

so often we go through life without seeing how beautiful it is.

so often we forget that we are the ones who write and sell our own stories.

live. live for yourself.
live for yourself.

if you are to die, die for yourself.
if you are to love, love for yourself.
if you are to forgive, forgive for yourself.

only for yourself.
always for yourself.

your purpose.
your success.
your failure.
your emotions, your story.

perhaps life is about memory.

Perhaps it is a virtue. Perhaps it is a flaw. Perhaps it is just a trait of my personality. The truth is that, at thirty-two, I am still facing this dilemma.

Many people ask me why I am not married yet. The answer is not simple. Having someone in our life inevitably means leaving our comfort zone. It means sharing spaces, dreams, worries and responsibilities. It demands an emotional availability that, so often, I do not find within me.

Perhaps that is also one of the reasons for some of the failures I have had in life, whether in personal projects or in areas I know well. At times I lack the capacity to persist when everything becomes heavy. I lack the will to carry on when the price to pay is my peace.”

Joyner Sarkas Omar