It would be better if, instead of a thousand words,
There was only one, a word that brought Peace.
It would be better if, instead of a thousand poem,
There was only one, a poem that revealed true Beauty.
It would be better if, instead of a thousand songs,
There was only one, a song that spread Happiness.
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal. Show all posts
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
11-04-2008
Things just got way out of hand. And no, not drunk at all…just had a drink the normal rhum as usual…the cheap one. He really did not know, just got out of hand. Then he had to call, the same call over and over and over since August. Long hours past, goodbyes, kisses, and hugs, went flying away like bats on a 3 am flight to Mars. Smoke like he always did…zzz. Woke up. Then it got out of hand. Toxic spreads like disease, and no, he’s not drunk at all…not at all. Something’s not right, then he let it out. puking out to death. puke like he’s pulling his guts out. Still something’s not right. Blood…all over his shirt, coffee spills…and blood as if mixing a cocktail. Sight’s fainting, what’s happening? Something’s not really right, and no he’s not drunk at all. He had to fall…never to wake up, not even coffee can wake him up now. It’s okay, it’s all over now…tears will follow soon. (my eulogy to Rodolfo Lui)
Thursday, October 23, 2008
living your own legend
I reckon that it takes about three minutes to read each page in this book. Well, according to statistics, in that same space of time, 300 people will die, and another 620 will be born.
I might take half an hour to write each page: I’m sitting at my computer, concentrating on what I’m doing, with books all around me, ideas in my head, cars driving past outside. Everything seems perfectly normal, and yes, during those thirty minutes, 3,000 people have died, and 6,200 have just seen the light of the world for the first time.
Where are those thousands of families who have just begun to mourn the loss of someone, or to smile at the arrival of a son, daughter, nephew, niece, brother, or sister?
I stop and reflect a little. Perhaps many of those people were reaching in the end of a long an painful illness, and some people are relieved when the Angel comes for them. Then again, hundreds of those children who have just been born will be abandoned the next moment and will go on to form part of the death statistics before I have even finished writing this page.
How strange. A simple statistic, which I happened to read, and suddenly I’m aware of all those deaths and entrances, those smiles and tears. How many of them are leaving this life while alone in their rooms, with no one relizing what’s happening? How many will be born in secret and then abandoned outside a children’s home or a convent?
I think to myself that I was once part of the birth statistics and will, one day, be included amongst the numbers of dead. It is good to be aware that I will die. Ever since I walked the road to Santiago, I have understood that, although life goes on and we are all eternal, this existence will one day end.
People do not think very much about death. They spend their lives worrying about absurdities; the put things off, and fail to notice important moments. They don’t take risks, because they think it’s dangerous. They complain a lot, but are afraid to take action. They want everything to change, but they themselves refuse to change.
If they thought a little more about death, they would never forget to make that much-postponed phone call. They would be a little crazier. They would not be afraid of this incarnation coming to an end, because you cannot fear something that is going to happen anyway.
The Indians say: “Today is as good day as any to leave this world.” And a wise man once said: “Death is always sitting by your side so that, when you need to do something important, it will give you the strenght and the courage that you need.”
I hope that you, dear reader, have got this far. It would be foolish to be frightened by death, because all of us, sooner or later, are going to die. And only those who accept this fact are prepared for life. -(Paulo Coelho)
I might take half an hour to write each page: I’m sitting at my computer, concentrating on what I’m doing, with books all around me, ideas in my head, cars driving past outside. Everything seems perfectly normal, and yes, during those thirty minutes, 3,000 people have died, and 6,200 have just seen the light of the world for the first time.
Where are those thousands of families who have just begun to mourn the loss of someone, or to smile at the arrival of a son, daughter, nephew, niece, brother, or sister?
I stop and reflect a little. Perhaps many of those people were reaching in the end of a long an painful illness, and some people are relieved when the Angel comes for them. Then again, hundreds of those children who have just been born will be abandoned the next moment and will go on to form part of the death statistics before I have even finished writing this page.
How strange. A simple statistic, which I happened to read, and suddenly I’m aware of all those deaths and entrances, those smiles and tears. How many of them are leaving this life while alone in their rooms, with no one relizing what’s happening? How many will be born in secret and then abandoned outside a children’s home or a convent?
I think to myself that I was once part of the birth statistics and will, one day, be included amongst the numbers of dead. It is good to be aware that I will die. Ever since I walked the road to Santiago, I have understood that, although life goes on and we are all eternal, this existence will one day end.
People do not think very much about death. They spend their lives worrying about absurdities; the put things off, and fail to notice important moments. They don’t take risks, because they think it’s dangerous. They complain a lot, but are afraid to take action. They want everything to change, but they themselves refuse to change.
If they thought a little more about death, they would never forget to make that much-postponed phone call. They would be a little crazier. They would not be afraid of this incarnation coming to an end, because you cannot fear something that is going to happen anyway.
The Indians say: “Today is as good day as any to leave this world.” And a wise man once said: “Death is always sitting by your side so that, when you need to do something important, it will give you the strenght and the courage that you need.”
I hope that you, dear reader, have got this far. It would be foolish to be frightened by death, because all of us, sooner or later, are going to die. And only those who accept this fact are prepared for life. -(Paulo Coelho)
Saturday, October 18, 2008
looking at other people's gardens
"You can give a fool a thousand intellects, but the only one he will want is yours," says an Arabic proverb. When we start planting the garden of our life, we glance to one side and notice our neighbor is there, spying. He himself is incapable of growing anything, but he likes to give advice on when to sow actions, when to fertilize thoughts, and when to water achievements.
If we listen to what this neighbor is saying, we will end up working for him, and the garden of our life will be our neighbor's idea. We will end up forgetting about the earth we cultivated with so much sweat and fertilized with so many blessings. We will forget that each centimeter of earth has its mysteries that only the patient hand of the gardener can decipher. We will no longer pay attention to the sun, the rain, and the seasons; we will concentrate instead only on that head peering at us over the hedge.
The fool who loves giving advice on our garden never tends his own plants at all.
If we listen to what this neighbor is saying, we will end up working for him, and the garden of our life will be our neighbor's idea. We will end up forgetting about the earth we cultivated with so much sweat and fertilized with so many blessings. We will forget that each centimeter of earth has its mysteries that only the patient hand of the gardener can decipher. We will no longer pay attention to the sun, the rain, and the seasons; we will concentrate instead only on that head peering at us over the hedge.
The fool who loves giving advice on our garden never tends his own plants at all.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
well it caught up and honestly...
and honestly i really could fall for you right now... it's been eight long months and I've been keeping all those messages in my thoughts, and these thoughts flying from nowhere... a wishful thinking that somehow...even for the slightest possibility that you could feel at the very least...the same way as i do. and I'm not suppose to act or think of anything beyond this reason but how could i not think of anything other than our endless laughter because every second...every minute of the passing days you of all people have certainly swept me away. please...don't let this feeling end.
well it caught up and honestly... I've fallen for you.
well it caught up and honestly... I've fallen for you.
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