You have been told bullshit all your life and you never knew it

It's a bug inside you. You are human, you can have bugs. You think it is normal to have filthy bugs that tell you, what you need to be told. Because you like to be told. You accept to be told. You want to be told. It is easier to be told instead of to tell. To tell, to tell the truth, is a cross, not many can bear.

Then you know that your life is wild. That you love side-paths, dark back-alleys.

Oh, I practice the ignominy of vice! You cry out. And you feel you are happy, you feel that you are living, but you are dying instead. You are bloody dying, instead. You are opening up to life but dark life, but you think it is real life, but it is not, you are dying to light. Like a noxious insect. You are a human being without light. An insect. Like the insect installed inside you, from the beginning when you signed the contract saying "Yes" instead of "No".

That "Yes" tickled the insect lust, that you accepted to be installed in you. A lust that deceived and cherished your heart, the heart of an insect. The thick heart of an obnoxious bug.

Then you are full of low desires and you love what's low, but you still think you are a good decent person, you are not a dishonourable person at least. Though the ruthless insect has already grown strong in your body and now overwhelms you, crashes you, strangles you.

You are dying and you think you are living. You never lived, you always died,

You let the bug in, and you died, forever.

But sometimes you can stop that death and you can u-turn towards the resurrection: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OHmMKrVbNk&t=239s

Seguimi su Telegram: https://t.me/princasvilniuje

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Poetry dwells near the divine light's breath

The comparison between poetry and divine light that we have proposed HERE finds its perfect explanation in Saint Paul, Epistle to the Romans 1:19: τ ὸ γνωστὸν τοῦ θεοῦ φανερόν ἐστιν ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὁ θεὸς γὰρ αὐτοῖς ἐφανέρωσεν — “that which may be known of God has been made manifest in them (in men), for God has manifested it unto them”. Poetry unveils within the human being the need to be human, that is, the need for Beauty, the need to feel Beauty within oneself and alongside oneself; and this feeling is sustained by divine light. Since we are influenced by the Augustinian idea of saeculum , we hold that poetry belongs to the saeculum and therefore comes to a halt upon the threshold of divine light [I] without crossing it, though perceiving the light that lies beyond that threshold. We are led to that threshold by the human feeling of Beauty that dwells within us and guides us to that point: to that door which cannot be crossed in our human condition. And yet, the mere act of stan...

Similarities between Lithuanian, Sanskrit and Ancient Greek: the sigmatic future

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L'ombra del dharma

Può qualcuno nascondere la verità per tutta la sua vita e ingannare sé e tutti gli altri? Vi sono demoni nell'uomo, che vengono di lontano - per linee di sangue e generazioni che, se li ascolti, si fanno tuo dharma Se cerco di spiegare quello che eri Devo l' oltre e il prima guardare Dove cause ignote e foschi criteri Erano il karma del tuo andare. Di lí andavi larvato di nulla E mai il volto sincero mostravi. Di silenzio vivevi in una bolla Eppure libero a me sembravi. In pubblico e privato ti scindevi E disprezzavi me a te non pari Ma santo mi apparivi e tu sapevi. Del tuo dharma che adesso appari Eri schiavo - di quel lontano demone Tara remota e senza memoria Che nel sangue ti seguiva epigone E segnava immemore tua la storia.

Fabrizio Ulivieri - Content Creator

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