I can think about sleeping. I can dream of dreaming. I see more clearly the objectivity of everything. The outer feeling of life is more agreeable to me. And all of this because a slight shift in the breeze delights the surface of my skin as I approach the street corner. All that we love or lose - things, human beings, meanings - rubs our skin and so reaches the soul, and in the eyes of God the event is no more than this breeze that brought me nothing besides an imaginary relief, the propitious moment, and the wherewithal to lose everything splendidly.
Posted on: Wed, 10 Jul 2013 10:39:49 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015