”Art alone can turn those thoughts of disgust at the horror or absurdity of existence into imaginary constructs which permit living to continue.”
Friedrich Nietzsche; The Birth of Tragedy.
Why to suffer from Sadness, Toxicity, and Love?!. Just remember that:-
”Life is a lot like jazz… it’s best when you improvise.” _George Gershwin.
is your approach;
feel it as you knee;
she is dancing; bare footed.
time, laid on desert sand;
leave now; take me along.
place, feel the passion,
new born girl smiles at you
smell her skin, pure innocence,
unlike a black rotten youth,
yes, never be sorry..
clumsy, as arose.
Black and White; a clear portrait.
Good and Evil; a win-win situation.
Mum and Dad; an obsolete divorce.
Birth and Death; deepest griefs.
Love and Hatred; a jazzy life.
Heart and Mind; ridiculously inherited.
Body and Soul; a rotten truth.
You and I; a never-ending fantasy.
Me and Myself; an eternal lore that never thrilled.
A true illustration of a fake individual who never existed even though his wife gave birth to a pretty girl. She was not blond but still charming at her fifties with three kids that was raised in complete poverty and a need for the simplest things of an average person.
Dad, can I walk you through the garden as I used to do before that bloody accident? Sure dear…since mum left, life has turned into a bitter sweet nightmare. However, she spent a happy few last years with Alfonso; a childhood dream love.
Let’s get breakfast first. It will not be helpful to start a new day so empty. Miss mum’s omelet with mushroom and pepper. Now, sharing the bad and good news is such a pleasant adventure. Leaving the morning filled with sadness wishing for a new Dawn. New fantasy that will be never disclosed before dooms day.
A strong desire for leaving the good old Alzheimer with the sunset in a windy summer night. Drive the wheelchair darling…mum would never have done so. Regrets looks for not helping with all very tiny simply stuff. Should father continue hating himself wondering how did it all go wrong? A simple thing for now; face the ever-lingered fears forcefully. Baby: tolerate, enjoy such a simple overwhelmed fear.
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By the first anniversary on Word Press, a hundred fifty tow posts and a wonderful one hundred and one followers; continue or disappear? Does it need another though? Another year! Maybe..
Who knows…life is always full of surprises;
regardless of painful tears.
When you start to see any other female as a super pretty model expect your own woman, it is surely a froth glitch my friend Alfonso.
On day you will regret it, then there will be no turning back brother. Hold her tight, hug her and let her feel your heart beats. No doubt then you will have plenty of happiness stories to tell. Catch the moment before it is too late mate.
That is what I call ”ASTRAL”; enjoy dears.
This is a true story with some adjustments…
Four kids for an extremely rich father with a glaring lavish life decided to throw their neighbor who lived all his life in tent beside their father’s villa. The father used to visit the neighbor every week before he recently pass away.The man in the tent used to get his living expenses from the father who allocated a portion of his harvest to the neighbors. The kids decided to stop this and sell the harvests without giving anything to the poor; then the man in the tent was thrown away.
The kids were never worried; they took a decision. The mother was always in disagreement with the husbands’ attitude; she supported the decision. In a winter stormy night, heavy rains, scary thunder, intense lightning; a man was shouting: Fire..Fire…the kids’ farm was completely destroyed. Blaming each other, at sunrise- they rushed to the fields. Gosh, all turned into ruins. This is because of what we did to our neighbors, the youngest shouts. They spend years praying, but useless.
Life goes around; they end up in a tent.
” I have never been a happy boy to say: yesterday has been always prettier”.
– Mahmoud Darwish.