September 2010

The great Pusher

It seems that television makes it more stupid people.
Clinical data shows that the reading of: The Country Doctor, increases the understanding of Kafka.
I have no idea if the endlessly re-reading of this book can, in theory, raise any idiot to genius.
In this case I would have some good chances.

Please avoid watching much TV and lately, Unfortunately, I read little. Not so
risk of becoming so captatio to grasp the "overview" that would make me think, crazy or falling into the abyss of my soul in moments.
Mediocrity imprisons me, but ultimately there to protect me.

pondered wistfully yesterday without apparent meaning of this existence, awaiting certain doom as it is unknown. Happy thoughts, I know, who sometimes indulge in, but I can not get away from my right. I can not help but consider the coincidences mockery of fate, the curious case of life, the wicked humor of reality. All elements that give a few, and much at all, however, a constant dissatisfaction.

Then, I stopped this sad Lenten meditations for an evening with friends.
I returned home late at night as happy as a baby after feeding and without a thought.

As I turned the key in the lock of the door I understood how my brain was a drug addict.

struck by this revelation, I think about how we, a bit 'all, just need plenty of neurotransmitters such as serotonin, norepinephrine, dopamine, endorphin (the latter similar to morphine) and so on.

substances that are produced by the central nervous system in times of intense pleasure. Molecules that give us the strength for another waltz, this crazy dance in masks who presumptuously call live.
The way to get these "limited quantities" takes place in various ways and is the meaning of the continuing grief of us poor devils.

We are always looking for a hustler, a new dose.

Who "set" with the work, one with the sex, who with his family, with power, fame. To each his own buzz, the important thing is distraction, especially to escape the horror of his own selfishness and solitude of his soul maimed.

Even the much praised "spirituality" does not exceed the range of this insurmountable.

Is not God the biggest pusher? There might expect on entry of the great disco heaven waving to gather new customers with a beautiful grin of circumstance?

No promises, through its representatives in the pig world, the lure of being able to enjoy a timeless happiness? An happiness free from responsibility for our actions?

There sticks in his mouth made a nice pad of nonsense season of good feeling and we wink wink.

"Now you're my" seems to say seductive and makes you sit irresponsible as an eternal adolescent, sedated by Nirvana, in its infinite ... Yeaaaaaaaaaah Rave!

Well, needless to say, that this reflection night took my good mood, but only for twenty seconds, for my misfortune.
During which I had, however, a photonic girapalle.

I felt a slave, a slave of myself, which is a terrible master why not abdicate, a tyrant invulnerable to any attack.
Then, in a burst libertarian I thought that I do not care how narrow the door can be ... How charged with punishments the life, every day I want to be the master of my fate, the captain of my soul.

If it is certain to become unhappy, then you need to worry about? Having to leave

surely this table prepared, as seems to be Sometimes life, it is worth, get a full stomach. Getting drunk of awareness, indigestion emotions, knowledge, love and, why not? Of suffering, there is no time to ride.

Big words that I even thought quietly, but inside me boiled in an uncontrollable motion of redemption; Unfortunately almost always rejected by the pettiness of my littleness, from congenital weakness of the cross, hypnotic cross of my days.

So I happen: talvota stumble on the truth but I always upward; I wipe my hands on her thighs and continued as if nothing had happened ... Ecchecazzo!