ORIGINS: We took the word EARTHQUAKE and divided it into three parts. The first one was an ear. The last one should have been a quake, but in the aftermath, what came out of the rubble was a quacking duck. And we picked some words that started with TH at random, because that was as good a place as any to start rebuilding.
The duck quacking in my ear tells me that we should find a new passion. That it’s high time we got our feet wet again. And I have to agree with it. I have already spent too much time licking my wounds. I can’t let my duck down. I can’t let it believe that I am a gutless, scaredy cat. I wouldn’t be able to live with its quacking otherwise.
The duck quacking in my ear reminds me that the sky and the ocean may be brothers, but there is still a difference between them. My duck reminds me that Sleep and Death are brothers too, and that I would do well not to confuse one with the other. That I shouldn’t let my dreams kill every other part of me. That I shouldn’t give everything I have to them. Because one day they will leave me, without saying goodbye. They will give up on me, and by then I won’t have anything else to live for.
There is a phrase I have heard many times. It’s my life, let me make my own mistakes. And I still don’t understand why anyone would say that. I am thankful to my duck, for all the advice it has quacked in my ear over the years. For showing me that I am not alone, that someone else also cares about me, about the outcome of my life. Enough to wish me only the best, and spare me unnecessary regrets.
I have a duck in my ear. It quacks loudly every day, thatching my roof anew, making sure that there are no leaks. That the rain doesn’t enter my home, because it isn’t welcome in my heart. No unkind words are welcome there. My duck knows that they would drain me of all the warmth, of all the happiness I have. And it makes sure to quack louder than any of them. So that kindness is all I hear.