Few days ago, a friend of mine introduced my to a acquaintance of her ,as a writer and painter. I said “no-no, its not exactly the truth” .Especially nowadays. There are titles I don’t fit into them. What I do, the way I see it is just playing with words and brushes. Its my way to enter to a place I call home , my way to meet that child.
Meme is not her name. Nobody remembers the real one neither when they start to call her Meme. As for the “why”, It’s simple. When someone needed help, the little princess was telling them. “Me, me !!! I can do it !! The years passed and she never ceased to say “Me, me !!! I can do it !! After a long time it become a habit. Meme was happy because she could help and other where happy too because they where helped. People didn’t ask anymore. It was expected that Meme will help them. And Meme didn’t wait at all. When she was seeing someone needed help, she was running to them and giving a helping hand.
Meme was so reckless that she didn’t realized that she was spending too much of herself to help others. Sometimes she didn’t have the stamina, but even then she was gathering every small fractal of courage to honor her name. She was Meme .
Till not power left and she couldn’t do anything.
People start whispering. “She didn’t help me, she doesn’t care for me.” And then they were complaining to her. Some of them, frustrated, they told her. “Meme, you are so egocentric. You don’t give a damn for me” I was expecting to hear that, Meme told me. I knew it was coming. But I didn’t do much to prevent it. It’s not just their fault, is mine too. I let them do that. But now I want to change it because it’s wrong for me and for them too.
She didn’t said anything else. When she is sad, she disappears at her secret room. She seals her mouth and her door.
“I have to go now” she told me and she stood up to leave. She walked some step , she turn to me and told me.
-“Meme is not my real name, you know that ?” - Yes, I do, I replied - I didn't, Meme said.