Say that you are looking at an old photography

And you are in it

A younger you, a much younger you

Among other people in that frame.

Looking at that old photography then

Is like opening a door

Like colourful dry leaves

Flowing in the wind

The banners

Flow over the shrubbery

The Word of Salvation

Leads the conquerors’ march.

The sun sparkles on the polished iron

Of their war costumes.

Life is not what you dream

What you think

What you learn.

Life is what you do or make with what you dream.

Life is the negative or positive portion of good luck or “divine intervention” you receive when you act upon your dreams.

I took a long, hot shower,

And felt good; felt reborn.

A veil of mist covered the mirror.
I slashed the veil, and from it surged my other self.

His eyes locked with mine.

Seconds passed as we stared at each other.

Tired of my solitude, like a dog on a leash

I went out for an evening walk

My solitude was the leash.

Under the streetlights’ glow

Another I, as a shadow

Walked alongside on the pavement.

In a visible corner of your mind

With open doors, yet undiscovered

Sits a quiet library.

Humanity’s collective learning

To live in the shadow of a dream

Is a defeat of the spirit

An earlier fall into the grave

·       “It might be true that your dreams may never come to fruition.

·       But then, if it is so, you must never live below what you dream.”

In human society, instead, it often does not seem to happen that way. Why? Like a pendulum from a cosmic clock, our human condition swings indifferently from life to death.

I can say that just as nature sets its boundaries, so humans do.

However, crossing nature’s boundaries powerfully creates life.

Nobody sleeps at night.

For at night is all activity, beginning with your eyes

On your pillow, like on a canvas, your mind paints your dreams

Dreams that keep you awake, awake but lost in those dimensions

When I was still living in the egg

I felt warm, well-fed and free.

No one was there to tell me what to do or not to do.

I had no ambitions, and I felt happy.

This is freedom, I said to myself.

“Oh, almighty man

When this craziness began?

Why have you stopped creating the stars that lighted your darkest nights?

Oh, Father, you who inhabit the universe

And the Earth entire

In the leaves that fall, bathed in golden colours

And dew and wind

Throughout his life, Man marches through a valley

The valley of mirrors, which is Man’s real realm

Sometimes at ease, no one to please

Sometimes in haste, no time to waste.

They say that in Hell, there is a large banquet hall where the Devil’s assistants serve delicious food to the condemned souls.

However, upon entrance to the Devil’s banquet hall every condemned soul gets long forks and spoons attached to their arms.

The Earth is a solitary ship with no state flag, no known ownership, sailing the calm seas of the universe, with no port ever to disembark, where every monster wave, every storm, and every menace that threatens to sink the ship happens on board and is rooted in the behaviour of the ship’s accidental, untrained crew.

“Every pain you endure is a map drawn by your own life that leads you to discover the hidden riches within your soul.”

To all of you who want, dream, or plan to write something or to expose an idea, I ask you not to fear.

Do it, and don’t fear that your idea, your book, or your plan won’t be accepted or ridiculed.

No fear is real.

Listen, my son, my daughter
Don’t hurry along the road that is long and winding

You don’t have to
You haven’t yet reached the first curve

Don’t be impatient

Now, my friend, I invite you to exercise a right you have

A right of conscience

Erase whatever is in your mind

I mean, erase everything you have in your mind

Thoughts, bad memories, plans, learning, and bad experiences