The pathless dream

The light is sighing

Dreaming
of undreamed colours

These sorrowful lips
whisper:

Do you bear a name?

Oh, my name is forlorn

I am these forgotten paths,
Untrodden by steps

Untrodden by yearning

I am the meadows
of indelible fragrance

This meandering beauty

This fading chant
of your afternoon

This post is especially dedicated to women

“How are you”, she asked with a charming and unusually spontaneous smile.
“I am actually very well, thanks”, I answered sincerely.

She works as a cashier at the grocery store I usually go to. She is gorgeous. Her eyes are shining like a squirrel, the line of her nose makes you dream, her lips voluptuously reminding of a ripe strawberry. She is blatantly sexy, I kind of lose my words every time I see her.

So there I was standing in the queue waiting for my turn to pay. She confessed:

“You know, I have such an unbearable head ache.” I looked at her attentively and answered:
“You think too much, don´t you?”
“Far too much…It goes on and on ceaselessly.” She couldn´t hide her being grateful, as she felt seen. So she went on. “Nothing good comes out of it. The more I think the worse it gets.”

“Take a break from thinking! Can´t you focus away your attention from your thoughts, looking randomly on whatever else for a change?” I asked, feeling rather awkward as there was an eager man behind me waiting for his turn.
“What shall I look at…? Everything feels the same… – boring, senseless.” Her tone was so sorrowful.
“I feel already like an old woman…Pretty soon I will be full of wrinkles.”

I was in shock when I heard this, I couldn´t believe my ears. So totally irrational. Unbelievable really. Not find a single reason for joy when there are so many good things in life…I just couldn´t figure it out what made such a good-looking girl in her mid twenties feel so hopelessly bored, disheartened and unhappy.

“Look at your mental wrinkles, deal with them instead!…” I told her, picking up the fruit I had bought. I touched a string, as she and the man behind me smiled nodding. “Yeah, these damn mental wrinkles – so true…”

Due to this episode, I realized tonight like never before that many beautiful women, bear an old, rigid, intolerant and unhappy old woman inside of them, who´s constantly crushing their confidence and yearning, poisoning their passion, vehemently stealing their precious youth…

Who is this old, irrational, unhappy ghost…?

A charmingly true quote

I don´t know whether it is Max Ernst to have uttered this subtle and charmingly beautiful truth:

“La nudité de la femme est plus sage que l´enseignement de la philosophie car elle ne demande pas d´être considerée.”

To translate:

Woman´s nakedness is much wiser than the teaching of philosophy because it asks not to be considered.