The Malediction’s Secret – German Free Version
Januar 31, 2024
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– autobiography –
Some people say that dreamers walk around with their heads in the clouds and are always distracted. Others accuse them of worse, saying that they will spend the rest of their lives in an imaginary world and achieve nothing good. For a while, I thought so myself. A dreamer. I must have been a pipe dreamer, rather. Because I could not make sense of my dreams. That was until my inner spirit commanded the awakening from the desolation that was leading me to a complete collapse straight to death. At that moment I gathered the dreams from all the failures of my life.
I searched through them for fragments of memories, which I managed to assemble, when destiny closes one of the doors of your life, it will open another somewhere else. It is possible that the realm discovered behind the newly opened gate may be much richer than the one you were forced to leave. Like the tides that recede water from one part of the world and flood other shores thousands of miles away. It is up to you, man, to choose the gate of your destiny! However, when several gates open, the human heart is in a great dilemma. Which gate will succeed in fulfilling his dreams? I began the bumpy road of writing with a children’s story. As my fingers ran over the keyboard, this story turned into magic-mixed science fiction. I had involuntarily created a fantasy world whose existence I myself had been unaware. But it was there… in my dreams… stemmed from the depths of childhood. A world where I often wished to remain. I was dreaming of that world that existed only for me. I wrote about the passions that exalted me and that the human heart feels. I was writing down my memories and all my childhood, which I could not give up. There is no doubt that the part of me that remained in the fantasies of childhood revolted and raged through these writings, which will continue as long as I remember them, and which led me to understand that I could become a creator. To create worlds that only the eyes of a dreamer can see. I felt myself pierced by the power of each and every dream and they told me the unwritten stories of the world. They floated around me like halos unleashed across the universe. They penetrated the innermost recesses of my mind and became one with my own spirit. Their intrusion filled every fibre of my flesh and every quiver of my soul with an aura of the hidden mysteries of the universe. At that moment, I was filled with an unusual force, and from dreams I hatched a plan whose fulfilment depended only on the determination and boldness of my being. My decision was also forced by the fact that I read, through my research, about the great men of history who were not defeated by anything and continued until they achieved their dream. Over the years, I realised that I had locked away in that part of my soul, which remained as if it was a child’s, all the realms I had dreamed of, where I escaped from the real world. I sometimes felt like I wanted to run away far from the world I was living in. Into a world of my own that only I could see, but I did not understand why I could not reach it. I couldn’t even put it into words, because I didn’t understand the world I was living in. Now, with a sense of maturity, I can freely express everything I dreamed of. Through writing, the desires I had back then are coming to light. Along with them, the memories, sorrows and joys of my childhood.
I do not want people to expect me to write only a certain kind of literature that is in line with their preferences. Nor do I want to align myself with the demands of literary critics who will scour my writing for flaws. Only readers will be my critics. I write because I love what I do, what I create. Like an omnipotent creator who arranges things in such a way that everything is almost perfect. I want to give readers the desire to seek out books by Liviu Ioan Codreanu because they appreciate what they read. Because I can gift them emotions. Sometimes books are long investigations through points of history. The person who creates them has great patience to enter places that are not discovered to everyone. I have discovered in my own being the third eye, also called the inner eye or the so-called mind’s eye, which appears at the moment when wisdom reveals itself to you as a creating spirit. In my writings there are occurrences in my life, both happy and unhappy events. I describe places through which life’s steps and dreams have taken me. Here and there, I am sneaking in some of the stories of those who wanted to entrust me with the secrets, love affairs, adventures and misfortunes of their lives. In my mind I recreate them, I place them in a natural order of things, or I dress them in suspense, in mystery and a subtle fiction, necessary for stories that want to offer interest and curiosity, bringing out unsuspected endings. Because I do not want to offer the world just a book, to be abandoned after a few pages. I am only interested in a certain kind of reader. Those who know and love books! Readers who can sift, through the sieve of appreciation, the phrases in my writings. I am convinced that the man who writes tells the infinite mysteries of his mind, of his soul, which he subjects to the reader’s critical eye. With my mind, I travel through past centuries, combing the stories, legends, ruins and writings that have lasted. I delve deep into the future of humanity, seeking to predict what might happen. I enter into an unknown into which I sometimes plunge, mixing it with the real things, and in this way the present reveals itself to me as a fact that I knew and explored many times when I… [to be continued]
Even I do not know why so many things are revealed to me that I feel I have known since the beginning of the world. Where have I gone to explore the depths of genesis. I feel that by looking into the distant past we can discover who we are. I am on a constant exploration to discover the unknown and each search sends me into fantasy worlds where I sometimes find it difficult to connect dream and reality or fiction and truth. I am not a superman! I do not want people to think that I — A man who writes — claim to know everything! Far be it from me. I always tell myself I am clueless. But I have the ambition to seek this knowledge, even though the history of the world, as it has been told to this day, is impossible to keep in one man’s mind, whoever he may be. For this, however, there are plenty of encyclopedias, textbooks and numerous studies by which one can guide oneself. This is how I proceed to give direction to research. I translate their secrets by the knowledge I have been given, and then I set them down in clear sketches for those who will read my writings. Many will understand and gain some insight into the work of one who has lost nights and days to put down on paper a part of the soul. I have understood this since my school days, when I carefully watched the teachers who taught me. From some I understood what they wanted to convey; from others I walked away just as I had come before. After a while, those who could not explain to my understanding would berate me, telling me I hadn’t done my homework properly. This made me very puzzled:
Doesn’t the student’s success also depend on the grace of the teacher who prepares him?
It is a reality that happens all over the world. A craftsman will prove himself a craftsman if his disciples follow in his footsteps. So is this universe of writing. Many write, but very few are teachers. That is why few are capable of expressing a message that will imprint itself like an engraving on the heart and soul of the reader. Nothing made me happier than when a reader told me:
‘I’ve read one of your books multiple times.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘It is an enjoyable read with a strong message, and I want to remember as much of it as possible. I want to share with my friends what I have learned from this read. It is a book that is worth reading.’
In that moment, my soul rose to the sky, as only a state of supreme bliss can give you. Only then did I feel I was where I was supposed to be. Which is why I continued what I had started. To author the books that run through my blood, as if they were part of my being. As a child, I learned to love them as I read them. Nowadays, I love them by bringing them to life. I was a primary school student when I heard the question:
Today, as I write this, I am amused by the answers I could have given many years ago. But at this moment, I can answer the question. Much better than when I was a student or a mere reader. In the following lines I will include the answer that can be given by a man who writes. Like a message, which only the spirit of a book can send to all those who have flipped through its pages. I was able to put myself in the position of the book, considering myself a creator capable of understanding the spirit of his creation.
Read me like a book but remember that I speak to you as a dear friend to whom I reveal my mysteries. I am your best friend. Ever since your childhood I have come to you and given you something you can’t get anywhere else. After you have flipped through my pages, you’ve found reason to push me aside. You got to know my mysteries and I became useless. In your heart you thought you had learned enough. How many times has life given you the chance to find me? Do you remember? After a while you needed me. I…, I was kind. I never neglected you! I came back to you and advised you, as your best friend. It all ended when, once again, you thought yourself too wise. From the corner you threw me into, I look at you and feel the need to ask:
‘Can you really not understand that there is no life without books?… Do you know that without me you cannot find a good path in life…’
I am the book and I’m your best friend. In the evening, I sit quietly beside you. In stormy weather, I can teach you how to protect yourself. But whatever the weather, remember that I exist and will always exist, no matter how many generations of computers come along. I will last until the end of time because there will be someone to keep me where I belong. In me are contained mysteries that you need in whatever time of life you find yourself. I am the book, your best friend, and I wait for you to find me and know me as I am… [TO BE CONTINUED]
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