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.