ordinary life ordinary death
Every moment I see, each other person in all their shapes and sizes and attitudes. I cannot like one above the other, more or less. It is just what it is, and I feel a tenderness in these quiet times. I think a wounded heart is the only kind of heart, not hardened with judgement about what is. You can see everyting, right there in front of you. And how can you be hard against that? Even the terrible ones, they have lines and heart breaks.
Fuck...I just realized I've burnt a pot.. musing about life and forgetting about reality. I guess we all live in our little fantasies, but anyway what is real (my burning house)..
Living in Italy these past months, I met a man named Fabrizio... he is like a treasure you find or a secret whispered. He has eyes that see. It shocking and amazing what he sees. And when you're with him, you can see too. To meet people like that, people who show you what you never saw or noticed before. He takes the veil away. And for some reason I cry about half the time I'm with him. The humanity you know. I guess when someone has a deep and profound sense of our humanity, its fragility, and is not hiding it behind a mask of some kind... well then thats affecting...his heart is his heart and knowable and so able to be hurt in an instant. he is a poet, and can sit easily with paradox, and i just wanted to make a record of him, somehow, because i don;t know how much longer he'll be here. and i know when he is gone i will miss him so much so much because it is rare to find someone like that. so rare.
trying to touch something like that is what people search their lives for without even knowing. maybe. and most people can't even recognize it in their own midst..
Notte di luna, passi dall'altra parte del mare con tua pallida lanterna. Io solitario e distratto; sul balcone lontano cosi' tu mi incanti e porte via il mio cuore.
Fuck...I just realized I've burnt a pot.. musing about life and forgetting about reality. I guess we all live in our little fantasies, but anyway what is real (my burning house)..
Living in Italy these past months, I met a man named Fabrizio... he is like a treasure you find or a secret whispered. He has eyes that see. It shocking and amazing what he sees. And when you're with him, you can see too. To meet people like that, people who show you what you never saw or noticed before. He takes the veil away. And for some reason I cry about half the time I'm with him. The humanity you know. I guess when someone has a deep and profound sense of our humanity, its fragility, and is not hiding it behind a mask of some kind... well then thats affecting...his heart is his heart and knowable and so able to be hurt in an instant. he is a poet, and can sit easily with paradox, and i just wanted to make a record of him, somehow, because i don;t know how much longer he'll be here. and i know when he is gone i will miss him so much so much because it is rare to find someone like that. so rare.
trying to touch something like that is what people search their lives for without even knowing. maybe. and most people can't even recognize it in their own midst..
Notte di luna, passi dall'altra parte del mare con tua pallida lanterna. Io solitario e distratto; sul balcone lontano cosi' tu mi incanti e porte via il mio cuore.