Orange Feathers: Tales of Picis

A tale is a like a narrated dream; a tale is a dream organized with a beginning and an end. A tale is the relief of unfinished thoughts that hide in the deepest corners of our minds, and stay there with the fear of coming out for they don´t fit with the reality of our conscious state. As children, we hear a thousand stories and tales. Magical stories that left our imagination without restraint, and made us dream that we were heroes, knights or princes that with great deeds will give a happy ending to the tale we were living in our minds; allowing us to sleep in peace thinking that a superior being, probably a fairy, will also give our story a happy ending. That is why to tell a Little kid a story who is scared at night and can´t sleep is a mother´s sweet voice task. But to tell a fairy tale, magic and miracles to a man that as a child had many dreams and as a grown man he still gets scared at nights when he closes his eyes, while he watched the failures of a lifetime, turns out to be a ruthless lie for a soul that no longer believes in anything. And if he ever expected a happy ending like in those stories that he was told as a little boy, today, he simply waits when he realizes that all of that was sheer bullshit. Anyway, consolation is still the task of a tender woman, maybe a wife, a grandmother, a mother or even a daughter in whom we find a pair of warm welcoming arms to go to when we find ourselves scared. Because men, even if we seem strong and determined, “macho” and robust as oaks, we also cry. We are used to a happy ending in a tale, and that is why when we see that our lives don´t resemble at all those tales we were told as kids, we become impatient, depressed and bitter. But our life itself is a series of tales, that if they were told in several parts, a lot will end in happy endings and others, maybe not so much.