The New Exhibition from Jonathan Djob Nkondo on Vimeo.

The longest line ends somewhere. It has to, for the journey has to begin all the way again, all the way back home, to where it all began. But it especially results in an utter disillusionment when that end station, that final stop, isn't quite there anymore. It's beyond the scheme of things, obscured by the mountain of hurtful words that have piled up slowly, chipping away at the soul, begging you to never return, never settle. Through the course of your way back home, you see that the lines that crossed your path and rattled you momentarily hold no sway over you anymore.

Some signals can finally be disregarded, some routes can be ignored, overgrown with perceptions about your life away. The troubling question brews in the horizon - are the walls that call you theirs, really are worth your time? Or are you safe within the walls that you've built, built to keep the words out and the silence well, in? The only way is forward, the only other way is just pushing through. If you fall down, don't worry, your ego will always come to your rescue, as it always has.

I've always wondered how things end, every thing. That's the natural progression of things, isn't it, I reckon with myself. Everything must end, as every little thing has. Even the thought crippling your judgement and clouding your motives, it shall end. Everyone is about the beginning, how it came to be. Everytime it seems to be a conversation where you end up ignoring the question that is the eventuality of it all - how will it end. The eventuality has been the death of everything, including life itself. 

Well, even that has to end - this crippling abandonment issue, like so many journeys which the soul undertook in the past, which the soul witnessed for quarter of a century. So, it's time to return, to one self through the route of forgivness and letting go. There will be stops of disillusionment, of abridged hurt and will make you rip out your soul from within you, but you will not stop. You will return as you always have chosen to. You will return even with no real stop at the end, no real tangible home, for you will have the one to call your own.

Come home.

Mountains and Yearning


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