There where paths of frendship meet, the whole world looks like home.
"I can give you nothing that has not already its origins within yourself, I can throw open no picture gallery but your own. I can help make your own world visible- that is all."
I haven't gone to bed yet. I feel like communicating. It's late and I don't have any thought on my own, so I'll borrow some of my favourites.
"Despair is the result of each earnest attempt to go through life with virtua, justice and understanding and fulfill their requirements. Children live on one side of despair, the awakened on the other side." (from The Journey to the East, 1932)
Hesse, whom I find easy to quote, but whom I don't particularly like, because he enbodies the main representation of what I called 'pseudo-intellectualism', was convinced that despair in life is inevitable. At least, that it is a natural state of mind for any man who has begun a process of self-discovery and tries then to relate to the external world accordingly. Not virtues, not justice, not rational understanding can ever lead to happiness. On the contrary, all those things generally lead to the conclusion that the world is unfair and unjust and irrational.
Only children, and people who do not ask questions and therefore remain at the stage of children their whole life, do not feel despair.
Only people who 'perceive life' with their full heart after having had an Epiphany, can go through despair and reach the following stage, which consists of relief, peace. But it rarely happens, it takes a great mind, and more importantly, it takes an enlighted heart.
The rest of us get stuck in despair.
There is a cure, though, I think. Resettling priorities. Stop being keen on details, on punctuation, on too secularised reasoning.
And here I leave with my favourite poem, written by a man who understood how foolish it is to get lost in the attempt to be wise. In the attempt to find and fix unreachable, improbable historical truths.
since feeling is first...
e.e. cummings
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
！the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other:then
laugh,leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis