Sometimes it is not just us against the world, but us against ourselves.
Sofia
domingo, 17 de outubro de 2010
quarta-feira, 22 de setembro de 2010
Little details on the street
A bird with a lost feather in its beek, building a nest.
What we loose, may others take.
That's it, robin.
That's so it.
Sofia Morna
What we loose, may others take.
That's it, robin.
That's so it.
Sofia Morna
sábado, 18 de setembro de 2010
Thanks
"Thank you for your time"...
No thank yous, that time was supposed to be yours.
Sad life: the one that only gives us time for ourselves
Be happy for giving it away.
Be happy for meeting with ourself, again.
Sofia Morna
No thank yous, that time was supposed to be yours.
Sad life: the one that only gives us time for ourselves
Be happy for giving it away.
Be happy for meeting with ourself, again.
Sofia Morna
Reading Foulcault
We are lords and masters, but we don't know how to govern ourselves.
We lack the insight, the good will, the ripe wisdom to do so.
But still, we are lords and masters.
And the freedom to do what we want, how we want, if we want (should we want it one day) with your lives is there.
But no Prince rules over everything.
Earth, is too big a place for just one governor.
Tell that to my Id, and see if it listens...
Sofia Morna
We lack the insight, the good will, the ripe wisdom to do so.
But still, we are lords and masters.
And the freedom to do what we want, how we want, if we want (should we want it one day) with your lives is there.
But no Prince rules over everything.
Earth, is too big a place for just one governor.
Tell that to my Id, and see if it listens...
Sofia Morna
Sometimes, we feel like communicating, and can't do much with our own words.
A lot of things can only be felt...not touched, nor seen with our mind.
And others are as tangible as a stone.
We can almost move them around, like we move around our own furniture, the stumbling blocks in the way.
The inner world is a space, and we try to find it out... in every breath.
It expresses itself, in every breath, and that will be always (partially) a mistery.
Until we pass away.
A lot of things can only be felt...not touched, nor seen with our mind.
And others are as tangible as a stone.
We can almost move them around, like we move around our own furniture, the stumbling blocks in the way.
The inner world is a space, and we try to find it out... in every breath.
It expresses itself, in every breath, and that will be always (partially) a mistery.
Until we pass away.
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