Egoism

Your dad died today.

"Come drink with me" you said without affectation.

And that's me ending up crying over my misfit life.

Sometimes!

allow yourself to be Rude, FUCK!

allow yourself to be Deceitful

allow yourself to make Mistakes

allow yourself to nest Contradictions

allow yourself to be Goofy and Dumb

allow yourself to ask Questions

allow yourself to be Perverted

allow yourself to feel Bad

allow yourself to be Imperfect


Accept it in yourself, and accept it in others.

and see that life goes on with still as many good emotions to pick along the way,

don't deprive yourself of those.


Nothing, No one impedes us to be and to share all that we are with everyone at every time of the day, except ourselves.

Emotional Thanks

"Trust yourself, you can make a woman happy whenever you want!!"


And i want it, but i want it real.

Feel it real.

But it depends too on The Woman.


It's for me to find her, or her to find me.

Whoever it is.

Whoever feel it,

like me.

The No of Nowhere

I had seen from the begining you were deceiving yourself, going over all you said you stood for, you used me every night and every morning, or rather i let myself used despite the limits i settled so clearly, believing you had made that choice in perfect understanding of the rules.
You kept reaching with your insatiable thirst for desire and joy, eager to have someone to put your dreams onto, carrying you mindlessly, someone that will give you the security of his arms and chest each time before you ever have to ask, you wished for a telepathic affection, and a life made of gold and sugar, blind to questioning the sickness of mankind, the bombs and the blows, the why"s" and the how"s", i thought you understood, we were so far away, from the first word, i knew the well was shut and filled with stall water, i could only be a caged sailor on a fragile raft, my poetic imagination and my ravenous lust for knowledge slowly shriveling away, leaking out of my dismantled carcass, in that vain environement, shallow, dark and narrow, that will be my tomb, i had to cut the leash right away, and i thought you knew too, all that, all that i'm not, and all that you are, you got tired i'm not fitting the mold you set for an ideal partner, "sorry lass" but i'm an unbound thinker, frigid to chains and expectations, i warned you and you were so innocently projecting the suave pile of your desperation that were more and more like stones thrown at me, as i noticed your coercive appeal and the fright of my distant heart.
Now you free me and you free yourself, you showed your face proudly to wave me off, and i agreed with a smile, the wind going under my coat, making me shiver, all back to the immensity, it should be fine, like i want, but that dried misleading uncertainty now corrupts me to ponder if i'm ever doomed to feel an absolute need and bond to another human being, and if this phase of my life revealed my incapacity to a recurent feeling apart for the fantasy in my mind, the thin white with colored eyes, giving me just enough hope not to end that dreary life, where no sense-blowing connection is possible.
You unconscious people vowing to make one with that girl or that guy laying insistent gazes at you, and touching you like you're a slice of smooth cake, can be happy, oh! crazily happy, absurdly happy.
Be happy for me.

More about the beauty conditioned mindlessness

People live in images, not in reality, that's why they are so insecure and disapointed when suddenly they have a glimpse of lucidity and are confronted to what this world really is, it is simple beauty, but they can't accept it because they are conditioned to have a certain perception of perfection, like characters are too clean up in commercials and magazines, this becomes the references, with what everything included themselves is judged, what an awful mistake, and then later when they rise their heads from their mercantile made up hypnotizers, and that they watch at themselves or nature, they are horrified, disgusted, scared, depressed, because real life is crooked, hunched, scratched, it's not slick and glossy, real life is sweaty, hairy and wrinkled, so what's best, fooling ourselves, closing our mind, searching to reach an unattainable and irrational perfection, or simply open your eyes and accept how things are for real, and see finally that this is beauty.

bore

I'm available for hatred, throw rocks at me, at least, at last, throw blades and your splitted tongues, that's a new occupation, i'm a punching bag, a kicking bag, i'm a spiting bag, a modern ugly iconoclast jesus in desperate need of veneration, of "whoreshipping" (damn!,fuck i'm bad!), i'm searching for an activity i will light up on doing, got style in piss and shit, i could strip of the awkwardness, the buffoonery, rip that skin and become something worthy of admiration and the cheapest but craved pity, (craved by your imperious need for indecency and mean voyeurism), my face all covered in blood, my body covered blue, masked, transformed, if i'm not good to receive love, not good to give love, maybe i'll be good at hatred, the filthy hatred, the incensing hatred, the jubilant hatred, i could transcend myself in the angel of bore, come back to hit that flesh, again and again, hate me till i'm your obssession.

Openness

"It is not sufficient to not be blind to see the trees and flowers. It also requires not to have a philosophy. When there is philosophy, there are no trees : there are ideas, nothing more."

To really see objects, nature and people in the completeness of their beauty it requires to stop judging, stop having ideas about it, stop categorizing, it requires to accept everything the way it is, to see the beauty means stop using our brain, the vicious filter of thoughts, stop giving names, it requires to forget all rules, conditionings, concepts and philosophies. It's apprehending what's around with the goodness of our senses, acknowledging the shape, the smell, the sight, the noise, the taste as belonging to one object, tree or person, acknowledging the magnificent unicity of the world.

(I wonder if Pessoa really understood what he wrote, it makes so much sense to me right now and above is my own  explanation)