luni, 25 octombrie 2021

 I am not here to entertain you

I am not here to fix you

I am not hear to rescue, heal or revive you

I am not here to be talked at

I am not here to give you all my energy

I am not here to make your story my own

I am not here to just listen

I am not here to make you whole

I am not here to make you happy

I am not here to make it all dissipate

I am not here to distract you from the tedious and mundane

I am not here to mask your sadness and feed your insecure heart

I am not here to hold your hand

I am not here to be a band aid

I am not here to give you all of me

I am here to love you strongly

I am here to love you equally

I am here to be an addition to the joy you already have

I am here to rest in, but not collapse into

I am here to support you, hear you, see you

I am here to make love to you

I am here to love you sweetly and gently and ferociously

I am here to make stories with you

I am here to challenge you

I am here to grow beside you.


 chasing the wind as he comes.


Love gets me nowhere

love is like a virus.

that my writing can stand

they get cut to pieces.

spit to give to people.

and suddenly here I am, sending

All I do is waste.

Dear, I know I’m interrupting you,

When you fall in love for real,

So I will leave this place alone, 

just for you and your lover.

I hope this wild animal won't bite you till death. 

I hope this wind won't dry your face. 

From the time I fell in love

my heart’s delight…

in that heaven of heavens…

of her sumptuous body

Put away your phone.

Sometimes there’s something

cradling a dead Jesus.

I melt with their wetness

My longing for you…

Death sentence.

With tears in my eyes,

The sea, the solitude…

were glacial.

The moon

did not love her husband.

dry for so long

in this house again…

Speaking.

Just a drop.

like a bell

The snow

of his wife,

Take it, take it.

for so long

Your young voice

the beginning.

Years went by and you're not tired of rejection? Of radio silance?

She still can't get over it. 

She will lose him.

He's tired of this games.

Tired about waiting to be seen. 

His wounds got dipped and dipper

with each steps she takes toward wind.

but  she can't  see that.

She can't see the one standing next to her all the time...

I will go away soon.

In the moonlight

everything will change.

stopped singing

feeling in this song

heart is acting up.

certain points.

I need a dark room.

of horses

a wedding proposal.

burns up

It’s all over.

about love.

Isn’t life torture?

so hold it tight.

… as one of the world’s great folk tales,

It’s the sound of the waves.

I don’t want to hear any more.

This is the last chance: to bloom or to fade away. 

Forgive me!

forget me,

do not look for me, 

for I shall already have forgotten you.

that day, 

at that hour, 

I shall lift my arms 

and my roots will set off 

to seek another land.

 What is more beautiful, my love? Love lost or love found? Don’t laugh at me, my love. I know it, I’m awkward and naive when it comes to love, and I ask questions straight out of a pop song. This doubt overwhelms me and undermines me, my love. To find or to lose? All around me, people don’t stop yearning. Did they lose or did they find? I can’t say. An orphan has no way of knowing. An orphan lacks a first love, a love for his mama and papa. That’s the source of his awkwardness, his naiveté. You said to me, on that deserted beach in California, “you can touch my legs.” But I didn’t do it. There my love, is love lost. That’s why I’ve never stopped wondering since that day, where have you been and where you are now? And you, shining gleam of my misspent youth, did you lose or did you find? I don’t know, and I will never know. I can’t even remember your name, my love. And I don’t have the answer. But this is how I like to imagine it, the answer. In the end, my love, we have no choice. We have to find.


M.

Fortress.

Walls and walls and walls.

Don't be another brick in the wall.



 P. S. 

Just the fact that people seem to be getting dumber and dumber. I mean, we have all this amazing technology, and yet… computers have turned into basically four-figure wank machines. The internet was supposed to set us free, democratize us, but… But all it’s really given us is (COVID-19) and… 24-hour day acces to kiddy porn. People… They don’t write anymore. They blog. Instead of talking, they text… No punctuation, no grammar, L.O.L. this and L.M.F.A.O. that. It just seems to me that it’s just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people in a protolanguage that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the King’s English.

 I’ve lost a lot of battles, but I’ve never lost sight of the war. My goal is to fight my way to a day when we’re old and gray and she looks at me and says ‘I’m glad you never gave up.’ Until then, I fight. No retreat, baby. No surrender.

Because at the end of the day, it’s all about you. It’s always been about you.

 We live in an extremely anxious age in which the core of our beliefs has been undermined to a great extent by scientific thinking. People have a hunger for answers but an inability to formulate the questions, partly because of the short-term view of things that’s encouraged by the media and partly because there seems to be no centre to which people can turn in order to see what the heart of the discussion is. I think this is a failure of philosophy in our days – and also of the culture that our English-speaking world has generated – around the idea of an abstract question.


The doctrine of Original sin, which is contained in the story of Genesis – one of the most beautiful concentrated metaphors in existence – is about the way we human beings fall from treating each other as subjects to treating each other as objects. Love, respect and forgiveness come from that. When we treat each other as objects, then we get the concentration camps.


GK Chesterton once said that to criticise religion because it leads people to kill each other is like criticising love because it has the same effect. All the best things we have, when abused, will cause bad things to happen. The need for sacrifice, to obey, to make a gift of your life is in all of us and it’s a deep thing. In the Islamic world today, people are trying to rejoin themselves to an antiquated and ancient faith and the result is massive violence when they encounter people who have not done that. We’d say that sense of sacrifice is good but only if you’re sacrificing your own life; once you sacrifice another’s life you’ve overstepped the mark

Neuro-nonsense occurs when people take on board the supposed discoveries of neuroscience – all these brain images that tell us, for instance, that we’ve discovered now exactly what love is, it’s this little bit in the hippocampus, so we have no need to question what the meaning of these things is. But these images have no meaning, any more than a chemical reaction in a test-tube has a meaning. All kinds of nonsense comes into being as a result of this, the nonsense being essentially what happens when our own human nature is confiscated from us by science or pseudosciences which claim to explain us without really going into the question of what we are.

 In my childhood I used to go early in the morning to the river. It is a small village. The river is very very lazy, as if not flowing at all. And in the morning when the sun has not yet risen, you cannot see whether it is flowing,it is so lazy and silent. And in the morning when there is nobody, the bathers have not come yet,  it is tremendously silent. Even the birds are not singing in the morning- early, no sound, just a sound-lessness pervades. And the smell of the Linden trees hangs all over the river. 

I used to go go there, to the furthest corner of the river, just to sit, just to be there. There was no need to do anything, just being there was enough, it was such a beautiful experience to be there. I will take a bath, I will swim, and when the sun will rise I will go to the other shore, to the vast expanse of the sand and dry myself there under the sun, and lie there and sometimes even go to sleep.

When I come back my mother used to ask:  “what have you being doing the whole morning?” I will say: “nothing”, because , actually, I had not been doing anything. And she will say: “ how is it possible? Four hours you have not been here, how is it possible that you have not been doing anything? You must have been doing something.” And she was right, but I was also not wrong.

I was not doing anything at all. I was just being there with the river, not doing anything, allowing things to happen. If it FELT like swimming, I would swim, but that was not a doing on my part, I was not forcing anything. If I felt like going into sleep, I would go.

Things were happening, but there was no doer. And my first experiences of satori started near that river: not doing anything, simply being there, millions of things happened.

But she would insist: “ you must been doing something.” So i would say: “Okay, I took a bath and I dried myself in the sun” , and then she was satisfied, or angry. But I was not, because what happened there in the river is not expressed by words: “I took a bath”- it looks so poor and pale. Playing with the river, floating in the river, swimming in the river, was such a deep experience.

 Ode to a naked beauty.

With chaste heart, and pure

eyes

I celebrate you, my beauty,

restraining my blood

so that the line

surges and follows

your contour,

and you bed yourself in my verse,

as in woodland, or wave-spume:

earth's perfume,

sea's music.

Nakedly beautiful,

whether it is your feet, arching

at a primal touch

of sound or breeze,

or your ears,

tiny spiral shells

from the splendour of America's oceans.

Your breasts also,

of equal fullness, overflowing

with the living light

and, yes,

winged

your eyelids of silken corn

that disclose

or enclose

the deep twin landscapes of your eyes.

The line of your back

separating you

falls away into paler regions

then surges

to the smooth hemispheres

of an apple,

and goes splitting

your loveliness

into two pillars

of burnt gold, pure alabaster,

to be lost in the twin clusters of your feet,

from which, once more, lifts and takes fire

the double tree of your symmetry:

flower of fire, open circle of candles,

swollen fruit raised

over the meeting of earth and ocean.

Your body - from what substances

agate, quartz, ears of wheat,

did it flow, was it gathered,

rising like bread

in the warmth,

and signalling hills

silvered,

valleys of a single petal, sweetnesses

of velvet depth,

until the pure, fine, form of woman

thickened

and rested there?

It is not so much light that falls

over the world

extended by your body

its suffocating snow,

as brightness, pouring itself out of you,

as if you were

burning inside.

Under your skin the moon is alive.

 I am Allowed~~

I am allowed to receive conscious love.


I am allowed to have needs.


I am allowed to express my emotions.


I am allowed to trust the universe.


I am allowed to desire.


I am allowed to break open and heal.


I am allowed to call in a conscious man.


I am allowed to try something new.


I am allowed to claim my value.


I am allowed to do things that make me happy.


I am allowed to take care of myself.


I am allowed to want more.


I am allowed to take up space.


I am allowed to be powerful.


I am allowed to speak my truth.


I am allowed to love myself.


I am allowed to walk away.


I am allowed to clear space.


I am allowed to open my heart.


I am allowed to be authentic.


I am allowed to be vulnerable.


I am allowed to be soft.


I am allowed to be strong.


I am allowed to outgrow people.


I am allowed to outgrow my old self.


I am allowed to be the god, the king, the father, the son, the husband, the partner, the lover, the men I was always created to be.

 A.

In a relationship, having your partner withdraw at an emotional level can bring confusion, pain and frustration.

Women who relate to men that do this are often bewildered by why and how this happens.

Speaking as a man, and one who considers himself sensitive and emotionally available, there are particular situations and scenarios that cause me to withdraw. And I imagine that other men, regardless of how in-tune they are with their emotional nature, would respond in similar ways.

Just because a man withdraws does not mean he is withdrawing from you.

First, I just wanted to express that when a man seeks solace or withdraws from a conversation, it probably has nothing to do with the beloved. It has more to do with the emotional intensity and confusion around emotions than with any particular person. It just takes men more time to integrate and understand the watery realm of emotions. And understanding emotions isn’t something that happens for us spontaneously in the midst of a heated discussion.

We need space and time to figure out what is happening, both within our own self and with our beloved.

Men have been discouraged from feeling emotional. We have been mocked, attacked, and belittled when showing emotions. Big boys don’t cry, toughen up, and bite the bullet are all phrases men grow up with. So when we are faced with emotional situations, we are total novices.

The biggest harm that is not recognized or appreciated for the depth of damage that it causes at the emotional level to a man is that men are expected to be tough, to protect, and kill to defend their family. Violence, and the expectation of violence, mandates an absence of emotional sensitivity.

It is a double standard to expect a man to be emotionally available and to have him be able to harm another human being.

Have compassion and understand the kind of conundrum that a man faces when being emotional vulnerable and awakening to deeper sensitivities. It is rare enough to find a man who wants to delve within and unleash his inner passion. It doesn’t mean that he is going to be masterful at it. For men to be comfortable in their own skin and accept their feeling nature takes a growth curve.

A woman has a lifetime of experience navigating the oceanic tides of emotional states.

Women grow up with emotional states and are accepted as sensitive, feeling beings. She is able to observe, feel, recognize and better communicate her feelings than a man. Women are also adept at observing and recognizing the emotional states in other people. And when a woman finds a man who loves her, at some level, she feels a great deal of hope because she has found an emotional match, somebody who understands those hidden tides and influences.

Women will share all their heart and feelings, and not understand how this can impact a man. And when a man doesn’t respond as she needs, the feelings of being hurt or misunderstood arise. How those feelings are expressed matter a great deal.

The best men want an intimate connection with women, and often don’t know how to do that.

Men don’t fall short in the emotional realm because we are emotionally immature. We are emotionally inexperienced. Men face expectations and pressure about emotions that are confusing and contradictory. And when we find a woman who loves us and we love in return, it brings to life a living fire that had been suppressed for a lifetime. Yet fires burn, and the burgeoning sensitivities is akin to a child learning to walk. We fall down, we make blunders, and we are blind as to how to listen and communicate our emotions.

Men experience a learning curve when awakening to their deepest sensitivities.

And just as any beginner, they make mistakes. Sometimes the mistakes are colossal, and sometimes laughable. Men need an emotional example, how to be alive with and operate with emotions in a healthy way. We also need to be accepted as we are, beginners with beautiful intention. To demand for a man to have the mastery over their emotions is an outrageous expectation. For most men, mastery over emotions means suppressing them, hiding feelings behind a mask of stoicism, or just turning off the emotions entirely. It takes time to even identify the subtle emotions, let alone to know how they function and their influence on our own self and those around us.

Any teacher knows that mocking a beginner or putting them down, criticizing them or their approach, will stunt the learning curve, if not completely stopping it.

The beloved woman becomes that guide into the mysterious realms of feeling emotions. When she expresses anger, puts down her man, belittles or mocks him, a man feels attacked. When she demands him to be sensitive, a man feels not good enough.

And when a man faces a woman’s wrath he will respond in the ways he has been taught to feel emotions since early childhood ; with anger. Anger is one of the few emotions accepted in men because it is a necessary emotion to be a soldier-killer. Anger is a natural defensive response for men. And once we become angry with our beloved, there is a host of problems that arise afterwards. Guilt, shame, inadequacy, failure, and fear. These siblings to anger are inevitable when fury shows its face, especially when we know that our loved one has been hurt as a result of our anger.

The words spoken in anger harm the recipient and the speaker.

It takes time for a man to feel comfortable feeling emotions. After all, such a man is challenging the tenets and pressure of an entire society and its deeply ingrained training.

A man’s natural response when hurt or confused is to withdraw. Almost everybody knows about the masculine need to retreat to the cave. And whether this is physical space, or mental space, or even silence, the cave is an essential healing tool for the manly mind. The cave allows integration of the experience, introspection to see what is happening within, and understanding to know how to better respond in the future.

Women set the example and emotional tone that allows their partner to feel safe.

When a man faces a woman who is emotionally stable, it allows him to understand his own emotions. The depth of understanding that the woman has with herself and her own emotional nature will give him the security to express and unveil his own strengths. The woman who is emotionally secure brings a presence of emotional security to the relationship. A well meaning man will appreciate this and do his best, and grow faster and reveal the depths of his spirit with increasing strength and confidence.

Granted, the ideal is that a man can figure out his emotional state and come into his own emotional maturity through his own self-generated willpower. Yet the reality is that teachers, guides and mentors accelerate this process and help a person navigate the confusing and mysterious realms of emotions. There are a great many pitfalls and bewildering mirages when it comes to the shifting sands of sensitivities. And as man learns his emotional state, he is also facing the additional challenges from his friends, family, and world that challenges that awakening at every step.

Gentle understanding and compassionate acceptance brings healing and deepens the relationship. One of the best qualities women have is the ability to nurture.

Nurturing is not aggressive. And with a man, directing aggression at him will generate an aggressive response. He will either fight or run. The flight or fight response is deeply ingrained into every human being. In essence, attacking a man who is opening his heart will trigger a survival level instinct. Once that survival level power fully awakens in relationship, the dynamics in the relationship changes and may never come back to equilibrium.

Nurturing is not forceful, instead it is accepting and allows for a natural growth curve. Be patient.

Just as a tree takes time to come into its fullness and blossom, a man who is learning to embrace his deeper truths will need time to fully ripen into his potential.

Appreciate the men who take the time to stand up against society to discover, feel, live and unleash their sensitive side. It takes a lion’s heart full of courage to face down societal expectations and programmed beliefs. Give him gratitude, honour his spirit, thank him for being available with his sensitivity in ANY way that he is able.

Such a person is one of a kind, a warrior in the truest meaning of the word.


B. The deeper you are, the harder it becomes for you to find someone who wants to have a relationship with you. You can go out on a lot of dates but at some point the relationship fails to progress any further and that is mainly because of the intensity of your depth. Not every man is strong enough to handle a deep woman. Here’s why:


1. A deep woman asks deep questions. A deep woman will probe further into your life and ask questions that you may not be prepared to answer. Even on the first date, she will dig deeper and ask personal and philosophical questions – she will never enjoy a shallow conversation.


2. She is honest. Too honest – often blunt. A deep woman takes her integrity seriously and one thing she believes in is honesty. If you ask her anything, she will tell you the truth and she expects the same from you.


3. A deep woman knows what she wants. Or who she wants. A deep woman knows right away if she likes you and doesn’t need to date around or explore her other options to be sure of her feelings. Her heart only beats for a special few people and she knows them right away.


4. She wants a deep relationship. She wants long conversations about your life, she wants to hear stories about your past, she wants to understand your pain and she wants to add value to your life. She wants a real relationship that goes beyond going out and having fun.


5. A deep woman is not afraid of intimacy. She is not afraid of getting closer or risking getting hurt in the process. She doesn’t think it will entrap her freedom or make her vulnerable. Her depth and intimacy go hand in hand and she will always cherish the beauty of intimacy in relationships.


6. A deep woman sees through you. She can see who you really are and what makes you vulnerable. She is not the one to hold back from pointing out what she sees in you or how well she can read you. Even though it makes you uncomfortable, she wants you to know that she understands you and that you can be yourself around her.


7.This kind of woman craves consistency. She gets turned off by inconsistency or flaky behavior. She desires a strong connection and a solid bond and she knows that consistency is the foundation of that bond. A deep woman will not participate in the dating games.


8. A deep woman is intense. She may be slightly intimidating because she brings intensity to everything she does. Her emotions are intense and so are her thoughts. She will never be indifferent about things that matter to her – not everyone is strong enough to handle her intensity.


9. This kind of woman only knows how to love deeply. If you can’t love her deeply, she will walk away. She doesn’t know how to casually date someone she’s really into or be friends with someone she has feelings for. A deep woman knows when someone can’t meet her halfway and she will slowly detach herself from anyone who is not willing to give her the deep love she is looking for.


10. A deep woman won’t wait for you. She will not wait for you to make up your mind or watch you be hesitant about her. She is strong and passionate and will not waste her emotions on someone who doesn’t appreciate their depth. Even though she is looking for a special kind of love, a deep woman is not afraid of being on her own.

So...

 —What is connection?

—When 2 motions, thought

to be infinite & mutually

exclusive, meet in a

moment.

—Of Time?

—Yes.

—Time does not exist. There is no time.

—Time is a straight plantation.

The diamonds shone like broken glass

Upon the midnight street

And all atop the walls were wet

Their white eyes glint & sleek

Then from afar a gnome appeared

An angel flashed on furry feet

The boulevard became a river

While waiting crowds began to quiver

I was in a motel watching

Whiskey in my hand

Her breath was soft, the wind was warm

Someone in a room was born. 

Accomplishments:

To make works in the face

of the void

To gain form, identity

To rise from the herd-crowd

Public favor

Public fervor

even the bitter Poet-Madman is

a clown

Treading the boards

Cold electric music

Damage me

Rend my mind

we/your dark slumber

Cold temple of steel

Cold minds alive

on the strangled shore 

Veterans of foreign wars

We are the soldiers of

Rock & Roll Wars

Whether to be a

great cagey perfumed

beast

dying under the

sweet patronage

of Kings

& exist like luxuriant

flowers beneath the

emblems of their

Strange empire

or by mere insouciant

faith

slap them, call their cards

spit on fate & cast hell

to flames in usury

by dying, nobly

we could exist like

innocent trolls

propogate our revels

& give the finger to the

gods in our private

bedrooms

let’s rather, maybe,

perhaps,

get fucking out in

the open, & by

swelling, jubilantly

Magnificently, end them. 

M.

 Look for the ones who keep it real, and aren’t afraid to share. To share their struggles, and their secrets, and their very best recipes and skincare secrets. Look for the ones who keep it real and value being genuine over everything else.

The ones who make you feel less alone in the chaos and more normal in the madness.

Look for the ones who keep it real and aren’t afraid to get vulnerable, and open up their ears, their heart, and their home. The ones who save you a seat at their table and are willing to learn, and apologize when they mess up. Look for the ones who keep it real with their messy, and their difficult, and their weaknesses—the unfiltered side of the lens so few are willing to admit exists.

In a world where so many people stay fickle, and take the easy road, and back off when hard topics bubble up to the surface, look for the ones who keep it real and prioritize the truth. Look for the ones who call you on your crap, and give you good advice—the kind of advice that stops you from acting like a jerk or helps deter you from making a huge mistake.

The ones who don’t just pat your back and tell you what you want to hear all the time, but the ones who tell you what you need to hear. The ones who welcome you exactly as you are, but never let you settle for being only a portion of the person you’re capable of becoming.

Look for the ones who keep it real and keep it authentic. Always. The ones who don’t put on a fake front, or stay splashing in the shallow end of conversations with pleasantries and words that don’t hold any meaning, but the ones who dive headfirst into the good stuff, the stuff that makes you feel less alone, and makes you come alive.

Look for the ones who keep it real and breathe life, and grace, and room to be yourself into the relationship. The ones who know you inside and out, and give you the benefit of the doubt when everyone else is turning their backs. The ones who believe the best in you, and want the best for you.

Look for the ones who keep it real and aren’t intimidated by others’ success, or jealous by others’ happiness. Look for the ones who keep it real and stay away from comparing, competing and tearing other people down hoping it will help them look taller. The ones who know you don’t have to push others into the mud to climb the ladder, and there’s no excuse for petty drama, or destroying someone else’s reputation just to have something to talk about.

Look for the ones who keep it real and boldly step up to the plate when it comes to doing what is right.

Look for the ones who keep it real. They’re the ones who will be there when life gets crazy, and the skies get dark, and they won’t make you tiptoe to stay on their good side, because all the have is a good side. They’re not phony. They’re not fake, and they don’t pretend.

They are ones who will be the same kind of friend when you’re standing next to each other as they are when you walk out of the room.

They’re the ones who will encourage you, and love you, and spur you in the right direction. Look for the ones who keep it real because they will give you plenty of freedom to be yourself as well.

Look for the ones who keep it real and keep going back to them.

 Bob Marley once said:

"You may not be her first,

her last, or her only.

She loved before

she may love again.

But if she loves you now,

what else matters?

She's not perfect—you aren't either,

and the two of you may never be perfect together

but if she can make you laugh,

cause you to think twice,

and admit to being human and making mistakes,

hold onto her and give her the most you can.

She may not be thinking about you every second of the day,

but she will give you a part of her

that she knows you can break—her heart.

So don't hurt her,

don't change her,

don't analyze and

don't expect more than she can give.

Smile when she makes you happy,

let her know when she makes you mad,

and miss her when she's not there.

Love with your whole being when you receive love.

Because there are no perfect girls, but there will always be a girl who is perfect for you..

 The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.

 The modern age has forgotten that facts and information, for all their usefulness, are not the same as truth or wisdom, and certainly not the same as direct experience. We have lost touch with the intuitive wisdom born of silence and stillness. To hold a question inwardly in silent and patient waiting is an art rarely mastered these days. Inquiry is a bridge between the ego and the soul, and beyond to the Infinite.

 Do not love half lovers

Do not entertain half friends 

Do not indulge in works of the half talented

Do not live half a life 

and do not die a half death

If you choose silence, then be silent

When you speak, do so until you are finished

Do not silence yourself to say something

And do not speak to be silent.

 Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single

friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore 

unsuitable.


I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds 

or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of 

praying, as you no doubt have yours. 


Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit

on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds, 

until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost

unhearable sound of the roses singing.


If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love

you very much.

 If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happened better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb. (Don't Hesitate)!


You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

 I believe if there's any kind of God it wouldn't be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.

I guess when you are young, you believe that you will meet many people with whom you'll connect with, but later in life you realize it only happens a few times.

In conclusion: No one really knows anyone. That’s the thing about relationships - people are

always saying, “I want to know you, I want to know who you are.” But it is so hard for anyone to even know themselves. Who I am is always changing, so how can anyone else share in that? Thomas Wolfe says that we are the sum of all the moments of our lives, and that, uh, anybody who sits down to write is gonna use the clay of their own life, that you can’t avoid that.

 Beauty is vanishing from our world because we live as though it did not matter. We appreciate beautiful things not for their utility only, but also for what they are in themselves—or more plausibly, for how they appear in themselves. 

Beauty is an ultimate value—something that we pursue for its own sake, and for the pursuit of which no further reason need be given. Beauty should therefore be compared to truth and goodness, one member of a trio of ultimate values which justify our rational inclinations. Wanting it for its beauty is not wanting to inspect it: it is wanting to contemplate it—and that is something more than a search for information or an expression of appetite. Here is a want without a goal: a desire that cannot be fulfilled since there is nothing that would count as its fulfilment. Beauty is not the source of disinterested pleasure, but simply the object of a universal interest: the interest that we have in beauty, and in the pleasure that beauty brings.

The ascent of the soul through love, which Plato describes in the Phaedrus, is symbolized in the figure of Aphrodite Urania, and this was the Venus painted by Botticelli, who was incidentally an ardent Platonist, and member of the Platonist circle around Pico della Mirandola. Botticelli’s Venus is not erotic: she is a vision of heavenly beauty, a visitation from other and higher spheres, and a call to transcendence. Indeed, she is self-evidently both the ancestor and the descendant of the Virgins of Fra Filippo Lippi: the ancestor in her pre-Christian meaning, the descendant in absorbing all that had been achieved through the artistic representation of the Virgin Mary as the symbol of untainted flesh. The post-Renaissance rehabilitation of sexual desire laid the foundations for a genuinely erotic art, an art that would display the human being as both subject and object of desire, but also as a free individual whose desire is a favour consciously bestowed. But this rehabilitation of sex leads us to raise what has become one of the most important questions confronting art and the criticism of art in our time: that of the difference, if there is one, between erotic art and pornography. Art can be erotic and also beautiful, like a Titian Venus. But it cannot be beautiful and also pornographic—so we believe, at least. And it is important to see why. In distinguishing the erotic and the pornographic we are really distinguishing two kinds of interest: interest in the embodied person and interest in the body—and, in the sense that I intend, these interests are incompatible. Normal desire is an inter-personal emotion. Its aim is a free and mutual surrender, which is also a uniting of two individuals, of you and me—through our bodies, certainly, but not merely as our bodies. Normal desire is a person to person response, one that seeks the selfhood that it gives. Objects can be substituted for each other, subjects not. Subjects, as Kant persuasively argued, are free individuals; their non-substitutability belongs to what they essentially are. Pornography, like slavery, is a denial of the human subject, a way of negating the moral demand that free beings must treat each other as ends in themselves. One cure for the pain of desecration is the move towards total PROFANATION: in other words, to wipe out all vestiges of sanctity from the once worshipped object, to make it merely a thing OF the world, and not just a thing IN the world, something that is nothing over and above the substitutes that can at any time replace it. That is what we see in the spreading addiction to pornography - a profanation that removes the sexual bond entirely from the realm of intrinsic values. It involves wiping out one area in which the idea of the beautiful had taken root, so as to protect ourselves from the possibility of love it and therefore losing it.

As soon as another person becomes important to us, so that we feel in our lives the gravitational pull of his existence, we are to a certain extent astonished by her individuality. From time to time we pause in her presence, and allow the incomprehensible fact of her being in the world to dawn on us. And if we love her and trust her, and feel the comfort of her companionship, then our sentiment, in these moments, is like the sentiment of beauty—a pure endorsement of the other, whose soul shines in her face and gestures as beauty shines in a work of art. Like the pleasure of friendship, the pleasure in beauty is curious: it aims to understand its object, and to value what it finds. Moreover, since it is in the nature of tastes to differ, how can a standard erected by one person’s taste be used to cast judgement on another’s? How, for example, can we pretend that one type of music is superior or inferior to another when comparative judgements merely reflect the taste of the one who makes them? 

Nobody who is alert to beauty, therefore, is without the concept of redemption—of a final transcendence of mortal disorder into a ‘kingdom of ends’. In an age of declining faith art bears enduring witness to the spiritual hunger and immortal longings of our species. Hence aesthetic education matters more today than at any previous period in history.

But what can you do with another person's beauty? The satisfied lover is as little able to possess the beauty of his beloved as the one who hopelessly observes it from afar.

 Overwhelming force 

Heading to uncertainty 

Reaching from within.

 See what's looking back

A welcome escape from all

Cleanse yourself from pain.

She wrote to me
It’s still vivid, like a bird
So celebrate when you feel
the tears of the oppressed
Your mother told me
I think of you, I think of you
more than you love me
One poem read…
Fractured bones, a hole in the heart
It’s because their sad cries…
A TIME FOR LOVE
and then come back north
Epilepsy, almost blind
Please open your eyes
Why do seagulls wake me from my dream?
She left days ago
I couldn’t help shedding tears
The photos.
when you’re honest to yourself
ONE MONTH LATER
My name is August
for marriage…
…pierce my heart
…and sink it that way
With all that has passed
May rest, such cruel sound
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