Today is today is today. Let's try to imagine a day lived in moments, infinitesimal slices of time. A sashimi of experience soaked in the black liquid of imagination. I only feel the concatenation, the hiccuping flow of linearity and in that rythm I slumber. A line is always part of a bigger circle, when will the snake bite its tail?
If I where honest this text would only be a two word statement: I'm afraid.
Of passing time.
Of being honest.
Of being vulnerable.
Of loneliness.
Of being completely understood.
Of being a mirror and not a window.
Of stating the obvious in an obvious way.
Of myself.
Of changing things that I can't change back.
Of being afraid to the point of paralysis.
"Stating the obvious in an obvious way" HA! Isn't that what I'm doing?
I'm not the only one; I'm sure. But the human experience isn't lived with a conciousness of the whole, there are glimpses in books, in movies, paintings; art in general I think. But translating those externalities into your own crazy language is a study of humbleness.
Be humble, don't be meek.
E.
Tengo que aceptar donde camino
Hace 9 años
