Silence and Sanguinary Follies

There are times when words are defeated by categorical force of reality, falling nowhere, overcome by the weight of their emptiness.

Leaving everything behind is not easy. Well, adjusting to any changes in our lives given if we chose it deliberately or not is not easy. Nothing is given as real except our world of desires and passions that we cannot step up or step down to any kind of reality except the reality of our own drives-- for thinking is nothing but the interrelation and interraction of our drives.

I could not turn my eyes from so much efervescence, so much passion and yearnings which well up from the world like sighs. My life has changed 180· turn after my father´s death. I was like a ship sailing in the vastness of an ocean without a compass. I knew from which so much melancholy sprung from those moments of struggle and melancholia. The tension of the soul in misfortune which trains it to strength, it shudders at the sight of great perdition, its inventiveness and courageousness is enduring. Whatever was given to the soul by way of depth, mystery, mask, mastery, guile and greatness, in the end, the individual is the one who has the freewill to decide which road to take, which people to choose, which fate to hold.

Things have no value until we put them there for self-preservation? I don`t know. We create an aim, a meaning for things. We give value and we create. Without it, the nutshell of existence will be hollow. Many things that one person called it good, another called it ridiculous and shameful. Over each person, there hangs a tablet of values of its self-mastery. Whatever comes hard to a person is praiseworthy; whatever irremissible for them is called good; whatever is most difficult and most rare they call it holy; whatever make them trial, rule and shine and make their neighbors envious, they consider it sublime, primal and the test of all things. Burning love and burning anger radiate from the names of all virtues.

There have been a thousand aims up to now, for there are a thousand more yokes over the thousand necks of this beast?

Only one aim is lacking. To make it real. For You. For Me.