Light Of Darkness

Never wish to leave, when you have something to stay for.

I am a dead man in order to reproach and praise what I write, because every time I express myself, with passion, with zeal, with lust for novelty, as if I would remain alone in the sphere of an alternative science, when I seek an idea by interpenetration with an overarching perspective, I feel that I collapse into the drifting of a crisis, into an endless abyss.

Such as an inscription on the bark of a tree that grows with alongside it, I unnaturally amplify my patience to insert into articles everything that, from the point of view of an extended realism, understood as an imitation of my passing through the time of this world, must be considered significant for readers. The fear of not being understood, is an agonizing death.

Will it be kept within me, for long enough, until the time of a shift towards other situations that replace reality, towards other areas of understanding, the ability to serve, as is proper, a faithful master – this special pleasure of debugging thoughts, strengthening my faith that I am above things – you, giant shadow, who asks questions of me and provides the answers yourself?

And always, the mind delivers an impulse, in the light of a seemingly unreal sunset: "Man must never leave, when he has something to stay for."

Can you assume the consequences of practicing an aesthetics of reflecting the reality that forces you to the opposite, as an expression of your desire to synchronize with the deepest experiences in the context of processing the presentation material of a new self-characterization perspective?

Delving slightly to a point that is at an infinite distance from a differential, rational calculation, I can deduce the expression of the potential owed to bookish task distributed against another point, appearing clearly in the mind and in the soul, close to the judgement of giving life to an idea that goes around the world.

I am my own judge, along with the order that words full of meaning give out, the path to power, like an arrowhead piercing the infinite, or as a knife blade cutting through living flesh. Responsible, I give myself a sentence that cannot be either mitigated, nor aggravated by any misperception of infinite depth, as an attribute of the transcendent reality.

I am dead in relation to the hardness with which I choose my way of expressing myself and my expressions, in contact with the possibility of being perceived as a dimensionless point or as an infinity of small voids. The only reality that forces me to the opposite, as a kind of misinterpretation of the experience of life that tears me up inside and consumes me almost completely, is given by the self-justification tendency to compose myself in a more obvious and assumed state of philosophical, reflection, trying at the same time to shine through a form of artistic expression.

Readers have been seeing me with suspicion for a long time and begin to wonder what kind of things are happening in my mind, what hides in each of its corners, if not simply the awful disease of shaking the truths of an unimaginably strange science, at the origin between "where you know no one will ever get to" and "where everything is lost."

A pretty risky affair, I would say, on the rhythms of Light of Darkness, from which the triumphant message, full of substance echoes: "He discovered the cure, this is his legend."

In this case, the material of presenting a new self-characterization perspective, as an attribute of emotional states that affects the decision to change attitudes to life, comprises the skillful prioritization of what must be experienced in a world full of anxiety, to what needs to be taught as an investment for the future.

Are you able to exclude the gap in your soul by blurring an image in a selection area of your own values, attitudes and behaviors so as to capture the validity of a "noble" concept of virtue that gives you fulfillment?

Since 2006, when I took writing seriously, I was seized by an inexplicable fear – under the effect of an obsessive internal force, threatened by unrest, by culpability, a sort of field of conservative circulation, in accordance with the relationship between words and their meaning. As if their entirety was a miracle making object, which, once found in the wrong hands, could transform into a threat.

Fear springs from not knowing the way in which my words are interpreted. I will try an incantation, an anti-headache pill, in order to protect myself from it, as a sign of liberation and distancing, by reciting a passage found in the novel "Dervish and Death" by Mesa Selimovic:

"I will not let you trouble me, ghost. Always stay here, among these rocks, as the moon, as that river, as the crescent in the minaret, as a bright appearance. You have filled this place with your being, like a bedsheet you have soaked it with your deceptive and deadly perfume. I will go into the world, to other lands, where you are not, and I shall neither bear your face in my mind."

Often, it seems to me that it is like an artistic project that aims to approach the art of the essence of the manifestation of my own intentions by launching my desire to arrive at a new expression of my identification with a certain constant producing results time. It recognizes as a reference potential the interaction between what I think I know about myself and what I think I deserve to experience through what I transmit.

The courage of using aesthetics – the deepest expression of creativity in a broader sense, and thus, to enrich it or impoverish it through the deepest of feelings, is in fact that restless voice to which it is hard at times to resist, which tells you at the end of the day: "Live" or "Die". In a practical sense, keep on making progress or give up.

The only "noble" conception of the virtue that proclaims my fulfillment can be expressed as follows: "Assume the risk of experiencing your feelings, especially with the points of view shown in your work that will diminish the effect that can simultaneously generate a certain force, as well as a terrible weakness."

Blurring an image in a selection area of your own values, attitudes and behaviors targets a minimum of privacy in the face of a personality exteriorization that forces you to reveal some hidden meanings and motivations that do not allow you to find yourself in the script of the reality you want.

Light Of Darkness is the courage to defeat your fear of not being others’ level of expectations, assigning to it the value of a criterion if existence of the creation you produce, depending on distancing yourself or getting close to that point where you wonder what exactly ties you to life.

And always, courage pushes the man endowed with many virtues: "Never wish to leave, when you have something to stay for."

* Note: Suntree - Light Of Darkness