Human nature

They turn everything into distance, into an unreachable object of desire, in order to continue their agonizing dream of separation.

In plain English, Suffering is man´s utmost Love.

I´ve had enough

God damn it!…

All these years I lived in devastation having to conceal my huge yearning and tremendous love in order to fit in. To not disturb the fucking consensus of a sick society which celebrates death, wretchedness and petty obedience.

Enough is enough.

I will scream out my wild love and passion. To hell with all fucking half measures!…

The parrot and the lion

There was once a story about a boy who was supposed to steal a parrot
guarded by a lion.

When the lion was asleep, he had the eyes wide open.
Contrary, when the animal had his eyes closed, he was very much awaken…

Now, the boy had to steal the parrot while the lion was unflinchingly
staring at him…Imagine that…
The boy finally managed to fulfill the task.

This was wonderfully analyzed by Marie-Louise von Frans,
a great Jungian analyst:

The lion here represents desire…

If we gaze, we frighten life away.

And when we are “asleep” we can “catch” it…

Eros makes it

If it is not erotic, it is not interesting.
(Fernando Arrabal)

Spare it for later

Give me chastity and continence, but not just now.
(St. Augustine)

I love this comment

In response to the post ” You deserve more than to hide” Susanna says:

“Indeed indeed… Stop being WHO you pretend to be and be WHO you really are. Accept everything and receive everything that makes you feel good or bad. Just accept that we are everything. Looking forward to everything that Will come into My life with ease. I´m worthy of everything that makes My life healthy, wealthy and happy. You too! Scream, Hug, do whatever your body is yearning for. Aaaaaaasssssaaaashhhh”

I love her tone between the lines…

Yes Susanna, let´s stop pretending, let´s express our yearning, our desire to be alive, loving and happy!

A response

She says:

I have a lot of “friends” but I don’t trust any of them because I know they talk to me because they have an interest so it’s hard to find real friends these days…People are very bad…and seeking something and then never call you anymore.

My answer:

People are bad, you say…
Why are they “bad”?…What are they looking for ultimately?…What do they want…?…What do you want?…Stay with this and give it a thought.

Are we just good or bad…?…Am I good?…Are you…? Who´s there to see…? Who considers us  being this or the other?…

Let´s suppose I – Julien Matei – am a good person. But if you inwardly suspect me of being “bad”, I will sooner or later “fulfill” your fearful desire and become evil…
So you see, there is no evil “out there” – through our approach we make people become one thing or another…

I know you have the ability to grasp my words…

Who raises walls around you…? Can it be Fear…? Does this fear really feed you…? Does it ever feed us?…What can we receive other than isolation when afraid? …

Only Fear raises walls trying to protect its false identity.

JOY DOESN´T NEED ANY PROTECTION. JOY IS FREE. And so are you, when you dare questioning the nature of your fear.

You go to my head

These last days I´ve been thinking of this song You go to my head. I find the lyrics hauntingly inspiring, like an enchanting but obstinately lingering rare perfume. A sweet memory of what it can be…:

You go to my head
And you linger like a haunting refrain
And I find you spinning round in my brain
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

You go to my head
With smile that makes my temperature rise
Like a summer with a thousand Julys
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes

Hm, “like a summer with thousand Julys, you intoxicate my soul with your eyes”…This is enthralling…realy…

Have you ever allowed yourself to be intoxicated with a glance like this…? Have you ever allowed Beauty to show you who you are…? Have you?…

Damn, why don´t we write poems and music like this today? Can´t we allow us for a change to be a little more romantic and dreamy, a little less “realistic” but more pragmatically interested in the whispers of our real yearning?…