And yet sometimes it simply takes over me...this strange sensation...the empty bowel and crawly feeling under my backbone and thighs...I cannot actually define it...I just know it makes me cry late at night or early with dawn when I'm finally alone with myself for a moment, under the warmth of the covers...I can't stop myself from thinking that maybe this isn't a feeling that "is"...but that it tryes to tell me something "isn't"...the butterflies aren't all sweet and peach skin soft...sometimes they scratch the inside untill you feel like growling...and you toss and turn and wrestle with it...but how can one fight an illusion?thin air?an impression or a dream?...you cannot ...at least you cannot through nowadays methods...we humans have lost that purity of soul that made our ancestors capable of proving such memorial feelings as honour, faith, selflessness...some way we have managed to forget that...yet the traces are still there and they exist ...whitch means that there is hope... it is maybe this ancient howl that cries in our ears late at night not letting us sleep...maybe it tries to come back, just like a memory we have fought to keep under for generations...and there is one more thing the world misses today...it is described as love...oh! what a waste, what an incoherence...how can we dare put it all in only one word...when all the complexity of the human mind and soul isn't capable of describing not even the thiniest slice of this starange material...and yet...the fade scent of faith and hope that still touch our senses from time to time have kept enough strenght to revive..if only a little..this feeling...only a little ...too much would be deadly...I have come to understand that we have not the intellectual, physical and soul strenght to survive such a profound desease..such a crushing blessing..such a thing...
So I sit in front of a mirror image of myslef saying this...it's there I know..all of it..it is just too weak to revive...too pale, malnourished and forgotten...supressed....the day we have locked up in the catacombs of our minds and chests theese indefinable feelings and ideals is the day we became mortal...and mortal we shall be untill the day our eyes close and our ribs rip our chests open...
3 comments:
maybe you want to know who you are... what you are... it's the oldest questions... i think you just try to understand what happen when you cry.
Don't try to understand, just feel, just cry . It's as a forgotten sensation.
but which sensation ? love ? happiness ? I can't say for you... Only you know.
I have these moments, too, and I found out that loving the feeling that tears into me as if it is a person yelling at me or shouting for my attention (or Love) then puts it to ease.
Maybe it is not a some "thing" but a some "one" trying to connect with you (an inner child). And maybe this someone simply wants to hear that you love them. Maybe "I love you" works - who knows. You can try it. :-)
anyone ever told you maybe you were born let's say 100-150 years later than you were supposed to? :) back then people really had principles like the ones you talked about!
I'm kidding,but it is rather true what you write of love and about our capability to really comprehend and fully realize what love means...however, I don't consider this to be sad, but rather the fact that I look around and talk to many people that I know, friends more or less...and many times i realize that many of us aren't capable of that great big complex thing called love. It's like some are born cripple when it comes to being able to love.
honor and faith? it seems that these days that "simple" I LOVE YOU is harder to say than any other set of words...or even worse when they do say it, they say it like it's something cheap and used.
so maybe this is what it gets us to get to think that we aren't able to love...and that maybe we are among the cripple.
i think that if we have the power to have faith in others surely we have the power to have faith in ourselves and in our capacity to love.simple,isn't it? :) i wouldn't know...
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