Thoughts Hub

2022-12-29 20:44:01 Wounds through which subterranean songs ascend
To spread as wet spots that have the shape of salty birds
Above my soul painted family..
And above your soul wrapped in the marble of oblivion
Wounds spread around me like shrapnel from a window that looked out on the world
Which I try every night to collect with the glue of your name
Wounds sprouting at your edges: like a secret field of poppies...
You extract from it when you are sad: powder my name
The wounds we shared equally then each one went into his own darkness
Wounds that turned out to be excessive longing: to a leaflet of lamps cut in two halves
Whenever we meet by chance: it works. Open / Comment

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              Open / Comment

2022-12-29 16:44:01 The rain must catch up; I was born like this, wet without it. Open / Comment

2022-12-29 11:11:01 I despair of not being able to fly
From the fact that my eyes are two wings,
But they quickly become wet. Open / Comment

2022-12-29 04:44:01 My silence about things is like a knight who saw from the coming evil the equivalent of bread, roses and diamonds stretched in abundance under the soles of his hands while the river sparkles with the possibilities of blood. What if my horse stumbled with my words and plunged into the valleys? What if the oceans ended up in a hybrid spot between people and tents? What if my pen slipped before drawing the first letter, while drowning betrays many letters with sayings that drown and others that you pull by their hair, whenever the water flows, you are shortened? Or did you choose your digging tools with your own hands until you became a statue that shook whenever they passed, a white marble above the sea roses, perhaps if they drowned? Open / Comment

2022-12-28 23:11:02 ‍The world is owned by those who struggle,
He who cannot run can fly! Open / Comment

2022-12-28 23:11:02 Make sure you stand up first and then run, don't crawl.

#Maxims Open / Comment

2022-12-28 16:44:01 Desire overcomes
the force of gravity.
If everything goes down
According to the nature,
Desire breaks that law.
And look up, as fire does
Out of longing for the sun. Open / Comment

2022-12-28 11:11:04 Yes, I know from where I came!
Ever hungry like a flame,
I consume myself and glow.
Light grows all that I conceive,
Ashes everything I leave:
Flame I am assuredly.

— Friedrich Nietzsche

We are like fire that sleeps in the dry branch or in the coal, and ever we struggle and seek for an end to our cramped confinement. But they come, they make up for aeons of struggle, the moments when we are set free, when the divine shatters the prison, when the flame bursts from the wood and flies up over the ashes, ah! when it is with us as if, its sorrows and its servitude forgotten, the un­ shackled spirit were returning in triumph to the halls of the Sun.

— Friedrich Hölderlin Open / Comment

2022-12-28 04:44:02 He who forgets to hold the thread of his soul is lost and the state of everything he does is lost. Go to his house. The threads of yarn are all in his hands. You can choose from them what you want with your heart, tongue and soul. He who is a sun in the heart of the shadow, approaches and departs like a crescent, as if it were a fantasy. Traps and traps never end. Your peace. Your imagination and your war. The imagination of your pride is a fantasy and your battle. The water's silhouette pointed to the thirsty when it saw it. Wine pointed to the drunk when it saw it—Come closer man, see that the smell of every firewood is in its smoke and that the sun points to the sun and that the shadow is like a tan that brings sleep. Come closer man, see how it is in the house of the sun. The moon splits lightly like a spider’s thread. The sun of the world is strange, unlike anyone else. The sun of the soul has no touch, and your sun was carried by beetles to the top of the dune. Open / Comment