Triste pena
I remember clearly the moment my innocence was devastated like ant hill under someone's step, or maybe, it was dissolved like papyrus in vinegar. I can't decide for simile. I felt my universe was shattered as a crystal vase, when I was told I wasn't a poet. Poetry would not put food on my table, nor does literature; I, most probable, would end up eating noodles and drinking 50 cent cup of coffees. Today, though, nothing of the sort is true! I write because I have the need. I don't write to become famous . Although, my writing has yielded its rewards, I write because I want to write. The moment, I do not want to write, I would just stop doing it. Neither publication, money, nor other persuasion would make write for any other reason, than the great pleasure of doing this: my beloved craft writing. My dream!
As my dream was devastated, at a moment, in this war, there have been a few shattered dreams to Mothers, Fathers, Sons and Daughters, not in the order, of course! The crushed dreams have been for both the invaded and invader. How do you tell someone that does not comprehend one's reality about reality? I believe psychiatrists call this psychosis, but psychosis then is a self inflicted infirmity. A calamity self imposed to prove something incomprehensible. The frailty of character, here, is and can't be other than a major collective psychosis.
Allow me to elaborate There was once, a great Greek mathematician, Archimedes of Syracuse who was very well known in Greece for his advances in physics and mathematics . One day Archimedes decides he wants to find the end of a geometrical figure: the parabola. Archimedes the more he reached the end of it found it keep going and going. Archimedes , who used the infinitesimals to try to identify the parabola's terminus, at the end, wasn't able to achieve the goal; he posted to himself. A roman soldier ended his life and quest for the parabola's terminus. Although, he did not find the parabola's end he did find with geometrical equations the approximation to PI, which with only geometry was a mammoth task that yielded very good results, but the results were not the desired one for Archimedes. Even though, Archimedes work is the foundation of today's Calculus, for Archimedes was not enough He wanted to reach the parabola's terminus.
As for Archimedes the parabola's end was obsession, for today's moronic leader of a good country, the obsession to reach the end of a theatrical war with only arms of clay is as obvert as trying to solve quantum mechanics with only integral calculus. Mr. Bush has in his head the end as an obsession forgetting the shatter dreams this war has cost for both sides. The invaded ones critique the customs and mannerisms of the invaders; and the invaders ridicule and mock mannerisms and the customs of the invaded ones. As though, the invader believes adversely, he is the one with greater knowledge and power. The invaded ones believe, they are the ones who can achieve the greater knowledge through their cultural and religious dogmas. As, Archimedes realized, at the end of his life; There is nostalgia, a melancholy, and youth's death one can't escape. The innocence is lost, and never, never, we would be able to recover the shattered dreams.
Thus, the collective psychosis that we can achieve a borrowed dream is, in all honesty, an infirmity of the individual to reconstruct the shatter dream. Even though, our thoughts always persist to take us in the direction of that broken dream. The dream has been dissolved like a papyrus in vinegar. Ergo, a new dream needs to be obtain, one that is from you and for you only
I remember clearly the moment my innocence was devastated like ant hill under someone's step, or maybe, it was dissolved like papyrus in vinegar. I can't decide for simile. I felt my universe was shattered as a crystal vase, when I was told I wasn't a poet. Poetry would not put food on my table, nor does literature; I, most probable, would end up eating noodles and drinking 50 cent cup of coffees. Today, though, nothing of the sort is true! I write because I have the need. I don't write to become famous . Although, my writing has yielded its rewards, I write because I want to write. The moment, I do not want to write, I would just stop doing it. Neither publication, money, nor other persuasion would make write for any other reason, than the great pleasure of doing this: my beloved craft writing. My dream!
As my dream was devastated, at a moment, in this war, there have been a few shattered dreams to Mothers, Fathers, Sons and Daughters, not in the order, of course! The crushed dreams have been for both the invaded and invader. How do you tell someone that does not comprehend one's reality about reality? I believe psychiatrists call this psychosis, but psychosis then is a self inflicted infirmity. A calamity self imposed to prove something incomprehensible. The frailty of character, here, is and can't be other than a major collective psychosis.
Allow me to elaborate There was once, a great Greek mathematician, Archimedes of Syracuse who was very well known in Greece for his advances in physics and mathematics . One day Archimedes decides he wants to find the end of a geometrical figure: the parabola. Archimedes the more he reached the end of it found it keep going and going. Archimedes , who used the infinitesimals to try to identify the parabola's terminus, at the end, wasn't able to achieve the goal; he posted to himself. A roman soldier ended his life and quest for the parabola's terminus. Although, he did not find the parabola's end he did find with geometrical equations the approximation to PI, which with only geometry was a mammoth task that yielded very good results, but the results were not the desired one for Archimedes. Even though, Archimedes work is the foundation of today's Calculus, for Archimedes was not enough He wanted to reach the parabola's terminus.
As for Archimedes the parabola's end was obsession, for today's moronic leader of a good country, the obsession to reach the end of a theatrical war with only arms of clay is as obvert as trying to solve quantum mechanics with only integral calculus. Mr. Bush has in his head the end as an obsession forgetting the shatter dreams this war has cost for both sides. The invaded ones critique the customs and mannerisms of the invaders; and the invaders ridicule and mock mannerisms and the customs of the invaded ones. As though, the invader believes adversely, he is the one with greater knowledge and power. The invaded ones believe, they are the ones who can achieve the greater knowledge through their cultural and religious dogmas. As, Archimedes realized, at the end of his life; There is nostalgia, a melancholy, and youth's death one can't escape. The innocence is lost, and never, never, we would be able to recover the shattered dreams.
Thus, the collective psychosis that we can achieve a borrowed dream is, in all honesty, an infirmity of the individual to reconstruct the shatter dream. Even though, our thoughts always persist to take us in the direction of that broken dream. The dream has been dissolved like a papyrus in vinegar. Ergo, a new dream needs to be obtain, one that is from you and for you only