If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Thomas Mann wrote that he would rather participate in life
than write a hundred stories.
Giacometti was once run down by a car,
and he recalled falling into a lucid faint,
a sudden exhilaration,
as he realized at last something was happening to him.
An assumption develops that you cannot understand life and live life simultaneously.
I do not agree entirely. Which is to say I do not exactly disagree.
I would say that life understood is life lived.
But the paradoxes bug me,
and I can learn to love and make love
to the paradoxes that bug me.
And on really romantic evenings of self,
I go salsa dancing with my confusion.
I tried to play it cool
I knew this was It
Our love was in the air
and destined pieces came fallin
I couldnt believe my eyes
But where there was a magic spark
was suddenly shut so tight
now nothing but darkness prevails
I heard her voice through Chaos
Supporting my rebirth with pure joy
I loved her shining smile and hungry eyes
Feeding my soul its needed appreciation
She made me feel Seen
I Love Her for that
then I went invisible
faded into her black realm of Fear
i need to break out of this damp field