Amigo Absoluto

"When any current moment is over it immediately begins to lose all shape and color, like a fish pulled out of water and left to die on land. Its colors pale while it flops helplessly around until its life energy ebbs beyond a certain point and it dies. However there are some moments that refuse to die. As they weaken, they stumble and lurch through the Now, wreaking havoc. Colliding with lives and events, they leave their mark, aroma, their scales, on everything they touch " —  Jonathan Carroll from THE GHOST IN LOVE 

The feelings that hurt most,  the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are. ~Fernando Pessoa 

Round about the city rests. The illuminated streets grow Quiet, and coaches rush along, adorned with torches. Men go home to rest, filled with the day's pleasures; Busy minds weigh up profit and loss contentedly At home. The busy marketplace comes to rest, Vacant now of flowers and grapes and crafts. But the music of strings sounds in distant gardens: Perhaps lovers play there, or a lonely man thinks About distant friends, and about his own youth. Rushing fountains flow by fragrant flower beds, Bells ring softly in the twilight air, and a watchman Calls out the hour, mindful of the time. Now a breeze rises and touches the crest of the grove — Look how the moon, like the shadow of our earth, Also rises stealthily! Phantastical night comes, Full of stars, unconcerned probably about us —          Astonishing night shines, a stranger among humans, Sadly over the mountain tops, in splendor. Friedrich Holderlin

There's this chain tied to me A chain of broken memories memories of love and hate, memories I can't replace, memories I would love to change, so I would no longer feel the pain of these memories, broken memories that linger, linger in my dreams And they come back right in front of me, broken memories that I hate, I just want them out of my face, broken memories, please get out of my mind your killing me, bringing back broken memories, I want to destroy, repeating, repeating, always repeating, these painful broken memories, A chain of broken memories will forever be tied to me. Matthew Petranovich

When you find the one Who's, Broken pieces unexpectedly and perfectly .... Match your broken pieces, You catch your breath.... In undeniable shock; At how well they fit together.... Without any effort at all, It's as simple and as complicated as that. U.Known

Live your Story... "A story is alive, as you and I are. It is rounded by muscle and sinew. Rushed with blood. Layered with skin, both rough and smooth. At its core lies soft marrow of hard, white bone. A story beats with the heart of every person who has ever strained ears to listen. On the breath of the storyteller, it soars. Until its images and deeds become so real you can see them in the air, shimmering like oases on the horizon line. A story can fly like a bee, so straight and swift you catch only the hum of its passing. Or move so slowly it seems motionless, curled in upon itself like a snake in the sun. It can vanish like smoke before the wind. Linger like perfume in the nose. Change with every telling, yet always remain the same.” ~Cameron Dokey

Butterflies, Rainbows and Unicorns Wings of golden yellow, orange and red and black Fluttered past my lazy body as I laid upon my back I watched it flitter about flowers in splendid bloom As Spring turned into Summer on the 21st day of June Then it landed on a flower, whose likes I'd never seen Multi-colored petals from a stalk of aquamarine And when it flew away, a rainbow trailed behind Its colors shining so brightly it nearly made me blind I got up to chase the butterfly following the rainbow trail Across the flowered meadow into a strange new vale When I stopped to catch my breath and took a look around A beautiful white unicorn is the sight I found She drank from a sparkling stream of water pure and clear She startled just a little bit as I started to get near I reached out my hand, to stroke her silken mane When I woke up in the meadow from the drops of falling rain Copyright © Joe Flach