Ironies


Isn't it Ironic?



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Overcoming yourself

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No way to turn back the ashes... Overcoming upon regret, once again and so systematically does not give you rest nor make you feel you can control the whole stage. Sometimes things just get a bit of a mess as far as you keep trying to change a situation, to fix the unfixable, but in that try hit only you result in trouble, only you result in pain and then things are still the same, with no changes, no rules to guide you in, because you did try it but not wish it really even if your so ignored heartfelt wish was there.  Controversy and fear are now welcome into the house of that conscience of yours, and that’s the first rule you disobeyed, and you know that was the pillar of life. Things can get thicker as you pass the way of rejection, assuming what you did not expect to assume at a first phase... but in that thickness of your mind you do not see an end or a beginning, and you keep sticking to that lost cause consuming every meaningful intention from inside. W e all want to f...
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A distressing pleasure

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Where the truth is we never know for sure. Once we get to almost understand the closest world around us, feeling the comfort of control, the taste of order and a certain vision of happiness, just then something comes to shake our cosmos and suddenly what we did expected from others or the way we saw the ordinary can change within a pleasant second of distress. I used to see things like in a line, but now, that line is taking different shapes and colours, dividing itself, multiplying, dissapearing for a moment and coming back again with deeper strength. I do not know what or why this life is taking me to that stage so far from what I used to think I was, but I can feel that harmony in the chaos and I pretty like it. My moment of manufactured under controlling missions has come to an end. Now I have the dessert and the sea and even the ocean, and the empty spaces I was so into once upon a time... Now my head is full of   what ifs   and   why nots , my soul is just ...
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Out of the game

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Rooms by the Sea , Edward Hopper (1951) We are all made of past, living a present towards a future that does not exist. But what about the moment, that every immediate breeze of air we take and leave behind... What's left behind, that's life, like the trace of a ship going nowhere, sometimes that's what we are, sailors in an ocean full of questions. What does make us choose some of our options? Do we sail the right or the wrong way? What really motivates our deepest feelings and why do we never, in so many cases, leave them go free... Sometimes we sail quite far from nature, but every time that nature comes closer, I see that trace more clear and most of my questions disappear. The need of nature in our lives is just a matter of the essence we are, a fact that's being supplied by our increasing condition of unconscious alienated piece lost from the chain, running fast and far, out of the game.
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