agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ November
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2022-10-11 | |
There are many things I did not, do not and probably will not ever understand; that this is how my mother, God, made me, or maybe I am (also) the result of all my understandings and misunderstandings.
I didn't understand where I came from. If anybody knows where we come from, please tell me so that I don’t die in ignorance. Why was I born here and not somewhere else, where do I go when I die... trivial questions, but ones that bother me, they bother us, they ferment, they ferment, and, who knows when they will burst out and in what context. I like to dream, with my eyes closed but, above all, with them wide open towards an imaginary horizon, where everything is in material-palpable-acoustic-olfactory-visual harmony, where color, smell, sound, consistency, are reflected in a naturally pleasant state, without pluses and minuses. Where "hello!" with a smile means precisely that, it has no other substrates of who knows what affiliations or interests; where people are genuine and do not oppress other people or other forms of life. There, everything has a beating, cyclical, tick-tock heart - saying what it has to say, listening to what it has to hear; no mouth cries louder than another, no arm rises above another arm, but, they unite to support the same cause: life. 11.10.2014
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy