Fabrizio Ulivieri - TrendSetter

  " Lebennach dem Tode - Wer Gründe hat, an sein 'Leben nach dem Tode' zu glauben,  muß seinen 'Tod' während seines Lebens ertragen lernen" *** (Friedrich Nietzsche Fragmente 1[8]) When we speak of death, we have in mind two kinds of death: death in life and death after life. While we are alive, we avoid speaking or thinking about death, as though it were not part of life; we live as if we were immortal. Death after life—as far as we can conceive of it while still alive—can only be imagined, and we begin to imagine it when we start to feel old, when death draws near. Then reality begins to seem unreal, and everything we have experienced up to that point loses its tangibility, its coherence, and its shape. We begin to realise that the life in which we believed no longer exists—indeed, that it never truly existed—and that the only genuine reality is death: the everlasting end of all illusions, all hopes, and everything, great or small, that we have managed to ...

Ea quae propinquitate et contactu agunt, per accidens propinquitate utuntur  Those things which act by nearness and by contact per accidens make use of proximity . Why crescent nature never grows alone? Thews and bulk make the temple hollow groan. The inward service of mind and soul Doth, within, besmirch and tardy mar. Stain the will must fear and strive to bar. Under its yoke subject is birth Choice depends and life and death Safety and health voice and yielding will. Where the stain hath put the head Therein is where the doom hath bled.

  In this poem, Bukowski is an excellent example of what I am saying , that poetry says to the poet by naming things where you have to go and where you have to go is the threshold of Beauty, which is the point where you are transcending this life ( saeculum ) and you hear the breath of God on you. And poet can be everyone, who is looking for Beauty and lives and experiences Beauty in life, without writing it on paper. your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission. be on the watch. there are ways out. there is light somewhere. it may not be much light but it beats the darkness. be on the watch. the gods will offer you chances. know them. take them. you can’t beat death but you can beat death in life, sometimes. and the more often you learn to do it, the more light there will be. your life is your life. know it while you have it. you are marvellous the gods wait to delight in you. ( The Laughing Hear t by Charles Bukowski) Follow me on Substack  

In my growing up with you, father, I now think there was an autistic quality. I offer this not as a criticism but as a diagnosis if it interests you. As a child, of course, you loved me and I loved you, but, even then, you treated me as you waited to be treated. Perhaps it started unconsciously, but you slowly translated me into an inscrutable object of your vision. And in fact, we were having inscrutable commerce with each other's hearts, during those perfect days. That is the way I felt indeed year after year, above all after turning eighteen. After that point, in fact, I realized how separate we were, two enterprises on the go, yours and mine. What your enterprise was I couldn't say, but it was opaque to me. The more I gained my life the more I felt it opaque, and distant. I am sorry father to say that, but that was what was disquieting me, and I couldn't say it to you. It lacked the courage. You were like a distant fading away image that I was unable to stop and grab.

  Father I am perfectly aware it is you, that you want to hear about, not me. But the only story involving you that I can tell, or the only one I am prepared to tell, is this one, namely the story of my life, which is quite different, quite another matter from what you think, from the story of what you thought my life was and where you were in. My story, the story of me, the way I think, act and react, began years before what happened, before it arrived on the final scene where you were playing your last drama and went on for years until you made your exit. Forever. Father, you would commit a grave error if you think that the difference between the two stories, the story you wanted to hear and the story you are getting, be nothing more than a matter of perspective. I think I felt as manipulated as you manipulated many of the women who passed through your life. It is not so. It is not so. I know. But I really suffered that I wasn't the main character in your life. My perspective was...