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| 27.9.06 |
| 10 months, 10 rEFLECTIONs |
To learn to distinguish what we really want from what the system wants us to want and have the courage to carry it out is, undoubtedly, an arduous and painful task, because it opposes us to our species and faces us against the ghost of solitude. However, it is also the only way to release us, and therefore, to close all doors to frustration and uneasiness, to receive fullness inner peace.
- You never say neither your virtues, nor your defects. They could turn into a mistaken idea of you.
- Time only takes you to discover something that already is.
The best and worst of Life is that one day it will not be.
 -------------------------------------------------------------Cheyenne. Ghosts in the evening. Digital photo, 2006
- I learnt that love can be as terrible as death, and in front of its petrified shade I would run toward her to dilute solitude. I learnt that nights stick to the humidity of my eyes, in their desperate dream to discover themselves like something real in the other side of the ocean’s mirror. And I discovered a bud of yellowish earth on my fingers, sand, an imposible to transmute sand, like my ashes eaten until bursting in small atoms of selfconscious, with an impossible loss and a sum of cloning.
I also had to swallow my love and get through drunkenness of jailed passion, where silence requested the word, and my anxious feet ran to the arrival of a new period of flood-hibernation.
Did I also learn not to find me, without wanting? Like an annex flattered by the volume of life?
And I learnt the sad story, the one that nobody can teach: that not even the achievement of the own dreams entails happiness. Because dream is fight and not goal. Dream is to create you in the already created, thus, without nourishment, without company, with a putrefactive air. And to walk, and to walk... It is not possible to look at the sun for a long time without hurting you. But the moon watches you, undoes you, its broken exact howl calls you between the multitude.
And when to learn something that does not make me cry?
- What is Death? Death can only be defined by itself.
- Everything a poem tells existed, even what did not happen lives in a poem.
- Here we are for contemplating the Universe and saying what wonderful it is. But nothing was made for contemplating us, and that is something that many people cannot stand. For that reason they invented gods.
- Be nice and I will be wild.
- From Savage, Eroticism arises; everything that begins with questions, forget it, it is not erotic.
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posted by Laura R. C. @ 15:44   |
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| 4 Comments: |
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Love can be as terrible as and more than death. Have you ever been so sad, frustrated, torn and desperate to prefer dying rather than carrying on in such way?
Sometimes love forces us facing enormous trials. You are talking about dreams, dreams is create you in the already created. Dreams and love are closer concept. Love has thousand faces, expressions, aspects and definitions. It can exist in unthinkables and indefinites sorts. Fictitious and wonderful "fantastic universes" which become real in our mind when dreaming, making fictitious the real world. The main difficulty is to manage both worlds in the best possible way… sometimes this is too difficult, too demanding…
Besos
Franci
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Love can be as terrible as and more than death. Have you ever been so sad, frustrated, torn and desperate to prefer dying rather than carrying on in such way?
Sometimes love forces us facing enormous trials. You are talking about dreams, dreams is create you in the already created. Dreams and love are closer concept. Love has thousand faces, expressions, aspects and definitions. It can exist in unthinkables and indefinites sorts. Fictitious and wonderful "fantastic universes" which become real in our mind when dreaming, making fictitious the real world. The main difficulty is to manage both worlds in the best possible way… sometimes this is too difficult, too demanding…
Besos
Franci
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I agree pretty much with you Francis! I also think sometimes it is not the love you feel what makes you so sad, but how you love... with passion. My bestfriend used to tell me that it is dangerous to be so passionate, because it is like being "drunk" all the time, but how can you change your nature? And if you try to make a change, don't you feel like you are betraying yourself?
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Nature cannot be changed. Sometimes your heart screams so much, pumps so much, needs passion. To survive, to live…to exist. I have always lived my life trying to use my heart to fulfill someone else’s one… I loved and I love with passion because I feel it; I could not behave in another way… It could be dangerous? Yes, I know, but I don’t want or better, I’m not able, to make a change. A life without love and passion is like a world without colors. How could we live in a world without colors?
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Laura R. C. Columbia MO (USA).
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Love can be as terrible as and more than death. Have you ever been so sad, frustrated, torn and desperate to prefer dying rather than carrying on in such way?
Sometimes love forces us facing enormous trials. You are talking about dreams, dreams is create you in the already created. Dreams and love are closer concept. Love has thousand faces, expressions, aspects and definitions. It can exist in unthinkables and indefinites sorts. Fictitious and wonderful "fantastic universes" which become real in our mind when dreaming, making fictitious the real world. The main difficulty is to manage both worlds in the best possible way… sometimes this is too difficult, too demanding…
Besos
Franci