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Reflections on death

Today I write about death, the heavy and menacing sharp sword hanging over our heads attached to a wire stretched thin ... amount that inevitably end up falling by putting an end to our life.

started dying from the moment we are born, and yet we strive to imagine eternal, to think we are immortal, constantly cover our eyes to the intense brightness of the scythe.

We invent gods, and even religions that promise wonderful paradise, we even killed for our beliefs without knowing with certainty the final result of our actions, motivated by faith instilled, never proven, to which we must lose our heads to which we have no arguments because, after all, or believe or die, that simple ... "Poor fool walking along a trail and open and not trying to open his own ."

We are taught that death is the result of a sin when it is actually the result of life because life would not exist without dying all the time ... trying to get away from that nasty edge that terrifies us, smell us wrong, we are disgusted, and during that attempt did not we realize that whatever we do our final destination is in a dark and lonely grave.

And we will die but do not pretend, we will die no matter the religion we profess, how old we are, life we \u200b\u200blive, how happy or sad we are ... we will die for the simple fact of being alive. Not worth complaints, no regrets or desires worth intense and good wishes ... one day, sometime, somewhere, alone or in company, our eyes are closed forever and our consciousness ceases to exist.

" Oh! Ironies of life because I pray that when that time comes I can tell myself: I'm still my own and my conscience. "

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Two hundred and ninety eight thousand eight seconds and peak


like someone waiting for you waiting to feel the delicate aromas of wildflowers riding in a gust of wind, leaving me with impatience dragging, tapping my heart with their bare hands of a need would be filled soon. He waited with his eyes lit up in the rush to imagine his smile as his eyes clashed with mine, his mouth full of kisses and empty hunger kept her lips ... There I was, on the threshold of a dream long-awaited with shrunken soul, trying to shorten the minutes with the clatter of heels and holding the anxiety in my fists.

When I saw him, everything around you lost its meaning, I only care about his image, only understood his words, just looked in his eyes ... Do you hear me darling? ... hear what I have to tell you what my lips say no muted by a throat that was unable to translate the sound born from the labyrinth of my body:

My body screamed to see her screaming in the wind when taps between the cliffs, the blood runs through my veins stopped squeezing between the walls of my heart and squeezes the water to slip between the steep slopes of lofty mountains, the air left my lungs leaving them waiting for your breath and my skin just want to feel heard yours ... Then, suddenly, I discovered that you had me in your arms.

How can we forget each share of minutes I'm living for them?, How pretending calm in your absence if you had your tongue so close to making love with mine? ... How close eyes without seeing if I can almost caress it with just touch me?, how not smell you when I breathe when I discovered that I do through you?, how not to feel my lips kiss and imagine yours?, tell me ... but although say, even telling me, I will not ...

shortened I lived a dream to have him intoxication, tempered by the certainty of his departure, overshadowed by the inability to restrain ... Seconds left impregnated while suppressing unforgettable memories, moments that soothe a wounded heart and worn by tripping past, moments that marked with fire let what I already knew I love him ...

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What I believe to be is not what I am ...

On a soft, rolling hills, the wind moved the grass resembling small and quiet waves that were lost in the horizon, or perhaps they were the hairs of a giant, lazy, carelessly slept laying his head on the wet earth ... the sun partially hidden by clouds that seemed to play around trying to calm him caused hardly subtle and vague flashes after which seemed to rise with greater strength, warming every inch, every corner, every hole on the surface ...

The rattling sound of water among the stones and the wind on my face to crackle in my ears were all that could hear, after that there was only silence.

Still, for a time just to feel I just seemed to find myself in the middle of a dream in which all that mattered was being there, standing, without speaking, without moving, without thinking, just being ... was the most close to freedom, I thought, I had to do anything ... ironies of life ... wanting to do many things, now he felt no need to move, or to intervene ... "nothing" was all I felt I wanted to do ...

In the distance a figure had begun to form, was only a dim outline, vague , but moved ... I realize that I felt, I knew I was there, I understood that came to me, that I was his goal at that moment, perhaps always had been, I dunno, I do not mind not knowing, only one more thought, only that ... I could not fear.

When he was in front of me I could tell that this figure seemed to be me, but I was a different, naked, vulnerable ... her eyes lost in a dark sea, his body hunched over their shoulders as if bear a terrible burden, his arms almost touched the ground, their skin was different, could be seen through it and saw it all: guts, blood, lungs, heart, all dried up, all up, half-rotten ... when I returned I noticed his eyes had not stopped looking at me, seemed to know what you thought, but I felt nothing, still did not feel anything, nor sorrow, di pain, or even disgust, I felt nothing ...

raised his hand and grabbed mine, did it tenderly, as if not to me the least damage, and then squeezed, squeezed hard ... thousands of images came to mind, terrible, terrible, oh God that's what I see! wrinkle my heart, my soul is broken, my body, my mind is invaded by despair ... What is this I see, What is it that you show me? ... That voice!, I know, is my voice, that laugh!, My laughter, the tears!, Is mine ... and the pain?, That pain is not mine, that gap is not mine ... So many feelings together, so many images, so many sounds, such rot ... that I can not be me, No! Definitely not ...

Trying to avoid returning to the lethargy that caused me the landscape, trying to breathe some clean air that was still wrapped around me but that was when I heard his voice, the voice that froze my blood and nail in my heart like a sharp sword by thousand men ... "I am what you fear most, because what you fear most is yourself, I'm your truth, your reality, I'm what you've done for you ..."