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Go deep!
Somehow the solidity of hope has lost it's shape.
Hope, originally defined as a confident expectation of good. It's meaning now lies within watered down concepts of human protection, protection from deferment. This redefinition steals the joy of expectation, replacing it with empty shells. Much like telling a child there is probably no gift inside but letting them go through the motions of opening the present anyway. It's often our words that trip us up, leaving much of the true substance unsaid. Considering the true ground of hope, moving towards it's right definition, hope as a truth will return. Life is the rise and fall of the ocean Life is winning the race weeping Life is being ambushed by failure Life is diving to catch falling vases Life is discovering a worthy goal Life is pursuing truth Life is committing to being overthrown We are all anger and passion and rage I am leaving this house I have lived in. A castle, painted like a cottage. Barricaded so carefully over the years; iron bars across the doors; wooden planks across the windows - never realising this home i've built will fight to keep me. I am walking away from an empty house, across a paddock, towards the trees, into darkness. I am abandoning my only home and it is shreiking. I am walking into oblivion to find safety. I am carrying with me only fear. My companion is not with me yet. I will meet him later when I become lost. And there will be two of him. It is always dark when you leave. Perhaps that is the only rule. But I walk on, seeing the sun in my dreams. Knowing the ocean is ahead of me. Knowing that morning will come as my house fades behind me. You are running towards me through a paddock; a baby crying : a soldier running for his life A child chasing a ball : a prisoner chasing freedom My home : my suit of armour : my captivity : my self
Se fosse una sotoria sarebbe ambientata sul lungomare di una spiaggia lunghimmima.
Una spiaggia senza inizio e senza fine. La storia di un uomo che cammina lungo questa riva e forse non incontra mai nessuno. Il suo sguardo si sofferma ogni tanto ad ossevare qualche oggetto o frammento portato dal mare. Ie impronte di un granchio, un gabbiano solitario. Il paesaggio e sempre la sabbia, il cielo, qualche nuvola, il mare. Cambiano solo le onde, sempre uguali e sempre diverse, piu piccole, piu grandi, piu corta, piu lunghe. If it were a story, it would be set by the sea on a very long beach. A beach without beginning and without end. The story of a man who walks along this shore and perhaps never meets anyone. His gaze lingers every now and then to observe some object of fragment borne by the sea, the imprints of a crab, a solitary seagull. The landscape is always the sand, the sky, the clouds, the sea. Only the waves change, always the same and always different. L.E. i just like that... "I love acting, its so much more real than life" Oscar Wilde
organised People are just too lazy to look for things
if at first you dont suceed, skydiving is not for you never wake a sleeping dragon, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup you'll always be my friend, you know too much but on a more *serious* note, possibly the cheesiest (but oddly cute) chat up line ever i looked up at the stars and matched each one with one reason why i loved you, then i ran out of stars man im on fia!;P "I love acting, its so much more real than life" Oscar Wilde
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