The Logbook of Schrödinger's Cat

Draw your pain. Let people say that you do not know how to draw. Even if you believe it yourself. But this is not true. You can always draw your pain, your suffering.

Let it first be just color, dark and oppressive. Take a simple cardboard and cover the page with black or dark brown. Or may be gray — the color of the web of hard and dull days, rainy sky, fog in your head, or a concrete wall. The color of ashes and hopelessness.

Now draw something. Maybe it will not be a drawing as such. Let it be just lines and strikes or just some words. Even if it is almost meaningless stream of words. Just write what comes to your mind. Speak out even if there is nobody nearby, who can hear you. Even if there is nobody around, who can understand your pain. But someone is here — this piece of paper, on which you spill out your soul.

Share your pain with this paper — and your pain becomes weaker. This is true even if there is no one to hear you.

Make these leaflets your friends. Let it be a journal with thick paper so that it can withstand paint or ink — this is the blood that flows from your heart, from your wounds. Keep it close so that from time to time you can share your secrets, talk to it as to an angel or to an old friend who may no longer be alive. Bring color to this page — even the darkest one. But have also a white pen or white ink. And silver, and some gold dust. Write your pain down with this ink. And you will see how it shines, like stars in the sky, like the Milky Way, like the Aurora lights, like a barely visible dawn ...

And your pain will gradually go away, dissolve in this dawn.

Page after page will carry away and dissolve your sorrow, dissolve the grayness of everyday life, and hope will shine through like the first ray of the sun.

Draw your pain. And you will see that you are drawing your hope.