nicio poveste adevarata nu moare

Adevarul nu moare. Da, idealism, stiu, si ce daca, nu trageti in idealism. Ideals are bulletproof (yeah, same as ideas, my dearest friend, my love). Niciun vis nu moare daca nu l-ai ucis mai intai in tine. Ghandi had a big point. And we keep missing it. Jesus had the biggest point, and we are doing a great job missing it. Wrath is good, sometimes, is useful. I mean the loving wrath. And the love in "loving" is not the love you are feeling, but the love that feels you. What does that mean, "the love that feels you"? I don't know how to explain it. It has something to do with the modesty. And the tearful joy of KNOWING. That knowledge in which the human individual knows he doesn't know shit. But he has faith, and love. And therefore, he's got the power to climb, step after step, towards the truth of himself and the truth of love. Steps are made of true dreams. But every day, we kill little bits of our dreams, cause we are in fallacy, and the fallacy hurts. We miss ourselves, and that is why we hurt. Sometimes the hurting is so big, that we choose to lie to ourselves, we choose not to consider that what we are looking at is the sky. Sooner or later, we will be forced to look directly at the sky. The sky is what our souls long for. But one cannot see the true sky as long as he doesn't truly look at himself. Only then, the climb can go further, towards the high outside and inside.

adventures in solitude

frumos cantec, am gasit un video cu versurile in descriere (chiar daca imaginea e ciudatica).

cine nu isi stie sau asuma ranile minte si se minte. vorba lui tudor gheorghe in "solii mei" (nu stiu cine a scris versurile): "de n-ai fi ras, n-ai fi stiut sa gemi/de n-ai fi plans, n-ai duce-n ochi lumina/ si daca singur rana nu-ti legai/ cu mana ta n-ai unge rani straine"...

"si daca-nvii in zambetul de azi/e c-ai murit in lacrima de-aseara"...

"n-ai jindui dupa un colt de rai/de n-ai purta un colt de iad in tine"...

etc etc.