For a Friend, I would have loved to tell even these fragments gleanings of experience, often darker than, or of my soul 's intellect, without feeling even vaguely pathetic.
At most,
human
too human.
Friday, January 28, 2011
What do you hope, then, surreal creature that you are nothing ...
Thought-in presumption that your great-you to shape a similar, conciliatory, painless, or at least not just too hostile and alien solo attingendo a quelle tue miserabili energie d' umana che ritenevi nobili od almeno non abbiette e ti immaginavi condivisibili?
Pensavi fossero benefiche? Un po' assolute? Necessarie allo Spirito cosmico ed universale? E cos' è -se qualcosa è- lo Spirito? Pensavi che -se non tutti- molti avvertissero, come te, la solida struttura occulta di ciò che viene banalmente e generalmente assimilato all' aria, e non si tocca, non si gode, non si ottiene, non si permuta, non viene catturato da uno solo dei nostri sensi sensibili?
Non ti hanno condotta che a te stessa: sei rimasta intrappolata nel tuo stesso specchio.
You have dreamed too. You dreamed as a child. It 's a privilege to run.
Now you know, the veil has fallen, the 'last stronghold left is your own breath, a little' out of breath, broken by the noise of your race reminiscent of the rash. You are living. Here and now.
And the live dev 'to be this: alternation of respiratory movements in the symphony of thoughts.
to you the determination to enable regular and harmonious or dissonant and turbulent.
Tonight, on the way back, as he devoured the road tires, t 'enchanted a majestic, complex, generous, sunset.
The beauty of living things and is still going, without you, disarm you. We doubt creeps d 'etre, perhaps unwittingly, already dead. It shows you that might not be that difficult.
The award of 'humility is the role of pop wisdom. Let it happen. That life happens, it happens' s love, death to happen. That is all.
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