Ó vil criatura
de vãs fantasias,
vives socialmente
no “plasma amorfo das sensações”.
Descontraído.
Habituado.
Mas nada criaste!
Absorveste,
as normas e os comportamentos
que a sociedade te deu
ou impôs.
Então,
como sabes que és?
Onde está o teu Eu?
in Metafísica [Poética]
Meanness works reveal themselves in common ways,
ResponderEliminardifferent paths and always nowhere and none can achieve
inland steps of ancient void.
These void, just void, white straps strapping self motivating prepositions are the purpose of these words, without meaning.
Words themselves solve nothing.
And live.
Still, always the same.
Gods, in a million square miles spread their sheets and rap us all with millions of lost explanations to solve nothing.
Not dimensional, infinite landscapes, single mountain-sea silhouettes indulge our
“meanless selves” from this point to those lost borders.
The limits of mankind.
Meaning “True Existence”, which has no meaning in evolution.
Reasonable explanations, quicker faster scholarships imprint fast understanding
in a singular attempt to self-condition of understanding,
something that ever would be explained.
Our motivations, fast look around.
What can you see?
“Meanless” facts, short episodes, poor events,
spiritual full-emptiness…
Deep thoughts don’t mean, don’t ever should they be understandable,
shouldn’t they be analysable?
No.
Even a brilliant mind can’t/don’t explain the true meaning of brilliant mind; like a fool who don’t understand the vile symptom of the leading form, (to) be fool.
"Just is" a verb.
Mustn’t we be frightened with our incapacity to think?
Pardon…
Je veux dire que tu me connais bien.
Tu, ne me connais bien mieux que moi-même, pardon...
Au revoir…
qui commence à devenir bien plus grande q’un jour,
cette jour qui viens seulement après minuit.
Pardon, quelle image à choisir ?
Elle est immense,
elle est plus grand que tous ce monde ou je ne me sent perdu,
et où l’on ne me connais pas.
Et maintenant,
je veux attendre par mon pardon.
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ResponderEliminar