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path taken pride

"love God above all things ..."

I was always taught that God was part of all things that exist. Which we are involved, or what is, we are part of his work while his very being. However, we are as free as free will is a tiny little fish in a glass aquarium, you can go where he pleases, but not much beyond the glass barrier, for clear barrier, and because undoubtedly die in the attempt. Ironies of life that his imprisonment is itself what keeps him alive.

We are surrounded, cornered, confined to a universe we can not escape because everything we see, we feel, we hear, we wish or dream is his bill (of God). Around us, even in the seemingly empty space between the toes or feet or eyes or any other occurrence. If everything I see, feel or hear is a creature of God, if God is in every air particle I breath, every atom of my being, in each microscopic mesentery as existed, exists or will exist, If this is so: How I can love God above all Him?, How I can love and despise at the same time? ... "I can perhaps turn away from God to come to Him? ... No, I can not, I can not love God above all things because I have love from all things, here's the question, my question ... An injunction human, not divine ... it separates, divides, which silences, which subjugates ... and perhaps most importantly, contradicting himself in an endless loop.

"... and your neighbor as yourself."

If followed to the letter these words many times not love or my shadow. Is the advantage that gives a command that fluctuates with your mood, come on, I have no excuse whatsoever for disobeying. You hate, because hate your neighbor. You feel at ease with yourself, then love your neighbor. Now I understand why the chaos in which we live, why so many wars, many deaths, so much hunger, so much inequality, hypocrisy ... I have a right to hate me, that I know for sure but: Should I be me the scale with which to measure my attitude toward our neighbor?, "must be the result of my personal self indicator of how I should act with others? ... No, I love my neighbor as I love me but as much as what it means to be part of a whole, the point is, my question ... A warrant individualized human feeling is not individual but universal.

Love is the only instrument that unites us because without him we would not exist. One being can not love yourself then that's just an illusion, you need someone to love and that love will inevitably join your loved one. Then the time will be determined by how sincere and authentic it was but we still remain one last excuse: we are human and therefore imperfect.

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The lamp


"there will be day you do not mind dying. That day you will understand that you are alive, that is when we really start to live. "

The cold dark night a giant slab weighed. In the distance could only distinguish light from an old lamp that illuminated what looked like an isolated universe, a piece of cheese in a sea of \u200b\u200btar, an unexpected hole on the pristine face of a black cardboard.

While I was wandering lost in the shadows hundreds of fluttering creatures mesmerized by the glitter, that lonely glow that seemed to protect them, keep them together, perhaps trapped. Again and again and again their little bodies bouncing against an insurmountable franking, impossible for such petty creatures. I did not understand this desire to try to go through the glass separating them from hell and that tiny head that prevented them from certain death and did not understand my obsession keep lurking in the dark, protected perhaps hidden ... if hidden ... But from whom?, what ...? Sometimes I would like to stop asking questions, to question, to doubt, just look, just feel, breathe, like a tree ... like a rock battered by the sea, without options, condemned to exist ...

One by one they fell, exhausted , dying ... yeah, dying but unmatured, in the end had achieved its purpose, the price was definitely the least important thing was the ultimate goal and that goal was not the ultimate end was the road. The important thing was not that flash of light, incredibly attractive, impossible to resist, haunting ... the important thing was the purpose, not the end ... did not understand why or how, perhaps they did not have very clear when, but what if it seemed wanted to know was where to go, he wanted to go, crossing the threshold, although it is for their lives.

And life was to them, although I'm not entirely sure ...

I'm still here, in the dark, hidden, for no apparent reason, under the weight of a night that keeps me moving ... hoping to find my own streetlight.

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Some Feet Under

morning was cool and quiet. The mournful mist was slowly giving up its land and instead the sun beating fast, began to warm every corner of the garden space that vigorously regaining lost.

Dew during the dark night seized all animate or inanimate surface, like a wet blanket, brief shining now announcing its rapid retreat to a dark corner waiting for better times ...

A soft breeze stirred by the light fingered shamelessly cedars, myrtles, pines, oaks and even the occasional lazy and bitter walnut crackled protesting that insolent interference. Between the thick branches, hundreds of birds flapped their wings and sang their songs to greet the dawn, Who else?, I thought, "Who else could have been chosen among all creatures to such a noble and fair job? ...

sighed for a few seconds and I felt that everything that permeated my lungs, I closed my eyes and dreamed of being part of that fun, being part of all in all, each myrtle, every cedar, each singing, all the wind ... I dreamed that dream a dream that died ... I opened my eyes and dreamed of living.