Blog notes VI

Few days ago, I got an unusual experience. I was travelling by bus. It was late at night. It was strange mainly because I don't usually travel at night (by any means of transport) - not because I might be afraid to do that, but for the simple reason that in the night, I am not able to perceive the reality in a realistic manner: for me, it is either better or worse.

I was standing there, watching the persons around me. All of them looked so busy, so preoccupied, so ... many. I felt so lonely... At that moment, I thought that I didn't belong to this world.

I got eventually at home. There was nobody, as well. A dreadful feeling of loneliness and emptiness invaded my soul. I hated the deep darkness that surrounded me. I was looking for the light, trying to escape from this terrible state. I finally managed to get it, but the light itself wasn't enough to make my soul rest.

This extremely unpleasant sensation followed me all that night. It was terrible to realize that there was nobody who would wait for me, who would feel the need of my presence stronger than anything else in the world (as I always dreamed).

But the truth is that we are really selective: perhaps there are many restless souls, waiting for a sign from us, that we are not interested in. We need our presence to be necessary only for some of them (who are already chosen).

It is true that when we don't have any feelings for somebody (who does have) we behave in a cruel manner. But wouldn't it be better if we stopped doing that (and watch, hear, understand and give hope, instead)?

Blog notes V

I remember perfectly the first time I saw you. You were standing there, so proud and apparently insensitive, waiting for my words. What impressed me the most was your intense look. I started to speak. By the time I was revealing my story in the discourse I was engaged in, I saw your smile, both arrogant and encouraging. And that smile made me lose my words. For the first time in my life I didn't know what to say.

I felt you really strong. I was afraid; afraid of you. I knew that I would never dare to lie to you (when I say lie, I mean I would never say something which is not completely true). I was not able to recreate my reality so that I could feel protected. I felt disarmed by your gestures.

After a while, I saw you again. When I looked into your eyes I felt the same emotion that I experienced when I first met you. And that happened every time my eyes encountered your blue look.

Fortunately, your nicely spoken, but still impersonal words brought me to the real world. I realized that I had to make myself a Sentimental education, in order to escape from your spell. And this is not difficult at all. When thinking of those bad things that usually happen in the world, does it matter one's individual pain?

Well, I believe it depends on the individual's nature. When thinking (at least) about those children who don't have the chance to develop and show their intellectual potential, some of us might feel extremely sad. And others could encounter the happiness only because they don't have imagination at all.

Few words addressed to somebody special: to you

This time, I will be thinking about you - the readers who discover patiently the ideas I want to share, agreeing or disagreeing, but still waiting for my next article.

There are some people strongly anchored in the real life. Those persons may consider my blog a blog about nothing or, at least, a blog about nothing important. I cannot blame them, since for a truly pragmatic person there is no time left to dream, imagine, think and question.

There is another category of people, whom the articles from my blog address to, mainly anchored in a special existence, extremely different from the real life. These types of persons usually read my notes, understand them and think about the meaning of my written words. I must confess that these persons, who do have a special relation to the world of ideas, are the main reason why I am still writing. And I will be writing as long as there will be somebody waiting for my texts.

My existence is split in two: on the one hand, I am living in the real world, doing things that should be done. This is the main reason why I can understand the pragmatic minds around us. On the other hand, I belong to an unreal world, a special world that only few people have access to. This is a sort of matrix, a shelter that can protect me from both others' unfriendly attitudes and my uninspired decisions (sometimes) .

This world, so different from that one we are used to, is all that matters, because it helps us develop our sensitiveness and creativity. And I am sure of it that it is worth spending all our lives trying to find a way to gain access to it.

Blog notes IV

Every time I write about you something strange happens: your image either becomes stronger, and there is no chance for me to escape from the spell, or it fades away, being replaced by another one (which usually is more better - because it is an ideal one, a fictionalized figure). When your image is growing weaker, I am thinking that I am on the right path. When it is too strong, I simply remember things that happened. I remember every single word you said, every gesture, every move you made. I really hate it that I have such a good memory!

What I admire most is your great character, that power and energy that make you special. On the other hand, I know perfectly that I will consider you interesting as long as I feel your strength. Show me that your arms are strong enough to hold me! Don't ever show me that you are weak, otherwise you will become an ideal that is going to be destroyed.

In a relationship there is always somebody who kisses and the other one who turns the cheek to be kissed. I used to be kissed. I only played the Queen of Hearts role, having the feeling that I deserved everything. I believed in me too much. And now, when I feel the need to kiss, I am afraid to do it. I am afraid that I will be rejected, I am afraid that you won't like my kiss. And if that happened, it would make my blood freeze. How much I do understand what I didn't before.

I used to dream a lot. In fact, I am still dreaming... I am living in my imagery world, dreaming of you. But your icy look always brings me back to the real life. Your impersonal and formal words, although so nicely spoken, will always destroy the magic. I am not supposed to dream.

I learnt my lesson well. I noticed that it is much better to stay with the person who is following you, making you feel bored, than to run after somebody, making them feel bored.

And if I eventually cause myself to forget everything about you, why am I so sad when I am thinking that you will not be in my dreams any longer?

Blog notes III

In one of his books, that teacher of mine about whom I told you last week compares Don Juan with Faust, writing that Don Juan's Love is a sport, but Faust's Love is an experience of knowledge. I couldn't agree more. Don Juan is an adventurer travelling the world, being in Love with the appearance of life, but Faust is an extremely profound figure, whose soul is so composite that you could hardly imagine anything but his love for the essence of life.

Unfortunately, nowadays, most of young men take Don Juan as an example instead of Faust, but we hope that they will gradually change at some time or other.

Faust's strongest wish is to understand the great mysteries that will remain unrevealed to others. He made a huge sacrifice following his strong desire of being different, of being what we call a Genius.

By loving Gretchen, that pure young girl, he tries to reach a superior understanding of life. He tries to know himself better by means of her love. The real love implies the strong desire of being reflected in the other one's eyes, having the feeling that nothing else matters.

Do you know why the love between Faust and Gretchen didn't resist in this world? Because they were very different. He was so ambitious, risking anything to accomplish his mission, to gain infinite knowledge - she was so pure, a figure without the minimum courage to assume any risk. He was flying - she was trudging, walking under the powerful influence of the gravity.

Think about what could it happen if their souls were very similar! They would have been together both in this world and in the other one (no matter what this could mean). And this is our dream. We all need to find somebody just like us. And that person ought to have all the qualities we have and expect from them, as well.

What happens when you choose a person different from yourself? Well, unfortunately, later or soon you begin to feel disappointed, you lose the admiration you used to feel and all ends up very painful.

I wonder why we feel attracted by the wrong persons. It is so difficult to make the right decision. On the other hand, once made, the action is quite irreversible. It takes more than courage and great effort to come back on your feet again, because it will always remain a wound or, if you are lucky, a scar in your soul.

I have a wound and I hope that it will become a scar in short time from now on. I have to learn to be strong, to learn to avoid waiting for my life to pass, being interested only by the moments when I could see your eyes, wondering whether you know my name, wondering whether you remember me just a little bit. It's amazing how a person whom you didn't even touch so far could step so deep into your world, becoming a part of you, isn't it?

But all that is born later or soon will die. And so will happen to our feelings. What may be painful today could make you smile tomorrow, because Everything Changes.

Blog notes II

A great teacher of mine used to say that by reading you will estrange yourself from Death. I am saying that not only by reading, but also by writing you will estrange yourself from Death. Do you know why? Because what is written will always remain. Your deepest thoughts, your inner feelings will take shape and everybody will have access to them, will agree or disagree, will have a natural empathy or even the opposite. Even though once written, the words will not belong to you anymore, but to those who will use them when reading your ideas, a little piece of your heart will be there, embodied in the letters.

I must confess that I am not writing to get away from Death. What is Death? Probably we will never know for sure. It could be an ending but also a beginning, because every ending is a beginning of something different. And that something different could be even much better than our ordinary lives.

Have you ever thought about what could it happen when the body fails to support the energy of our souls? Well, the body remains in its position (and it becomes no longer important) and the spirit will be searching for something better. I am saying better, because we ought to believe that it will be an evolution (not an involution).

Think about this passing to a different level. It could be a painful process, or not. If not, you will probably notice the difference at some time or other. If there is great pain, think about it as a natural state. The pain generated by a damaged body could be the same as the pain that a new-born child (or an unborn child) may feel. So, the agony of the alteration and the ecstasy of the regeneration will merge.

As I have already said, I am not writing to estrange myself from Death. I am doing that in order to heal my soul, to escape from the obsession of an image both afflicting and beloved. I need to educate myself, to get away from the strong desire of looking into those capricious eyes that could send me in Heaven or Hell. There is a long way out but I hope I will eventually have my soul healed.

Blog notes I

I always liked to travel by bus. I find really interesting sitting and watching people around me, especially in the morning. Everyone looks so preoccupied, so absorbed in thoughts. I wonder whether they are married or single, whether they have got any children, whether there is somebody in the evening waiting for them to come home. It's such a good feeling to come home knowing that there is someone who is waiting for you, or somebody who ought to come.

I wonder whether people have dreams. Are they fighting for an ideal? Do they wake up in the morning with the feeling that this day will be the one in which they will accomplish what they set out to do? I wonder how much their work is worth. Do they like what they are doing or it's just an everyday routine? Are they allowed to create? Are they willing to create? Are they searching for something that has not been found so far? Or, are they waiting for the next day to come, hoping that it will be a lucky one? Do they write history or their fate is already written?

Have you ever got the feeling that you know very well somebody you just met? Have you encountered a person, a stranger, to whom you changed a few words, having the feeling that you know that person for years? Or, have you felt that you needn't talk to that person, because their blue look was more than enough? Why is it happening? Perhaps because you have already found everything you need to know about that person, and all the rest is worthless stuff.

Then, why do you live all your life with a person without knowing their soul, their deepest feelings?