"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
It's the soul inside of Guts himself that we all knew was there, but only Susumu Hirasawa was able to show us. Hirasawa did the one thing Guts couldn't do. He found the inner peace inside of Guts that the events of the Eclipse and Guts' shitty life in Midland has stolen from him. Frankly, it's no wonder this song is powerful.
If a bee doesn't hover on my tea, something is wrong with it. If my tea isn't sweet, the bee won't take a single chance with it. So I end up asking for two glasses, one for me and one for the bees. Then I remember why I wanted bees drinking from my glass in the first place. My gawd I got too drunk on tea.
...Because in the middle of Ebola, you can't touch anyone. It puts a physical distance between you and the world that no words can bridge. And you feel that distance in your body, you feel it like you feel the smacking against a fat wooden poll pushing you away from the world. I had never understood that it was qualitavetly different to say to someone "a pleasure to meet you" while you're holding on to a stranger. I had never appreciated just how much groundwork was laid in the way I extend my hand, the strength in the length of a handshake. Touch transforms everything and without I had also lost a skill.
Having a writig buddy is like: -Eating ethereal yet plausible rainbow clouds and turning them into words. -Having within one's inner furnace a phoenix as fuel that unleashes an outlandish inspiration. -Understanding the meaning behind sentences such as this: "déjà que le nombre des mixtilles est pâle et que je t'en trouve un goût bien silencieux, toi qui avais l'odeur si tapageuse tant tes larmes sucrées te restaient prisonnères à pourir à l'intérieur".
I proclaim officially that my writer's food is Path's lemon cake.
Nothing can fill me more because of such an overload of gratitude right now.
So, I just want to remember the salvation it brings me to deliver every word and to read every word.
One Step and I'm over, with the blessings of the METAFALICA Reyvatails.
Tomorrow is SHOWTIME.
And I still don't know how to not write in details all my points in an essay and what the heck it would be of use to know words such as curmudgeon, extol or lackadaisical.
On this morning, I pray you bathe in the realm of blissfulness and cast a gentle stare upon us. I pray you laugh and are happy at how happy I am and don't feel sorrowful for any of my woes. I hope my dear Oli that you can see that I can see now, please rest in peace.
A pleasant encounter from work leads to extremely pleasant perspectives. Chance encounters with those who share potent conversations has been a peculiarity of my current workplace and I am extremely grateful for it
Geroch Tipler's main result out of his theorem is that the time dimension will be closed in a topology changing universe. Maybe, he's not adopting an accurate geometric model for the universe then. Maybe he doesn't look at it in a torus fashion, because in a torus fashion..
-"What are you thinking about? You're doing the dishes with a weird face."
Dearly beloved friend,...
For once, I just followed Marquez's advice : you don't have to voice out everything you're thinking, but surely think what you're voicing out.
-"I was thinking about the little knowledge that I think I have."