lesson: how to love

I’ve read somethings about how to love…I guess love is not a learning process and can not be teached…for love, just loving…loving I feel as love in movement and loving is an experience..books about love?…treatises about love?…conferences about love?…I run away from these dangerous things…poor love, why, love, are you so neglected?…love, why so much aggression in your name?…I take for a long time my struggle against anything against love…I don’t know what is love…nobody knows…I am a loving movement free of joy and nothing can destroy my loving…nor death…death is not a word…love is not a word…loving is rebellious one…nothing can stop my loving…nor yours loving…we are loving free…loving is the only freedom I feel…loving is a rebellion movement…the wall that restrain the people freedom falls with rebellious loving…people like people…people needs loving…when I die, my loving fragrance remains…I feel this…like hope, loving never dies…loving does not have an initial popit and and end point: this is an illusion, but I know no thing and nothing about love…I just am a loving rebellious free movement towards all the people…the world is we, we are the rebellious loving…surviving, ego battles…living, just a loving free amorous encompassing all…I get a surviving experience…loving is innocence, but for the daily aggressions, ego…for living with joy, freedom and confidence in human goodness just loving…so simple, so difficult in appearence and essence, but so easy that the smile of the baby I received yesterday iluminated the shiny day…nothing but pain and suffering without loving…however I am a writer and I have nothing to say…I  have no thing and nothing to teach or give or learn, I just share my loving…blogging is an experience far beyond soliloquy

ego, not egoism

as a writer I write in english…also in other languages, but english is interesting, however some words I can not pick up for writing…egoism, I mean the narcisistic state of a soul, or mind…words!…narcisism is when I can not see yonder me and myself and my I…when you can not perceive beyond you…there exist narcisism, there exist egoism… no loving…far away from only my identity coming from my image in the mirror lake…when I see you, narcisistic wall falls…this wall is defence and is a serious one…loving is an experience far away from narcisism…self esteem, self respect, self loving is a need for surviving…loving is living in a plenty amorous movement…loving is decisive, joy is decisive…joy is a love fragrance remaining at the end of the world…we are the world…when the world, the persons, are aggressive…ego is the defence…egoism is no loving, but I get with me an ego for surviving and my loving for living…unfortunately love is far away the commom living, and this kind of poverty put me down sometimes, make me feel blue…however I want to live my life too…so, loving is my only viable crucible way…I will not save the world, I love the world, just…when I die, world remains and some loving fragrance from me too, I hope and hope never dies, I can not save the world, but I give food for those hungry people I can reach and touch and share my loving…the human goodness is my hope

ego

ego seems a strange one…there exist a struggle against ego, but ego is what I feel as a central human core, ego is the ground that each person is also…nobody have ego, everybody is ego too…broken ego, broken person…ego is useful for dealing wtih the cotidian things like work, pay the bills, the duties that are not free…a person must have and must be an ego…after (and it seems in a sequential path) ego can be this tool for dealing with the dangerous outside world…and also for dealing with the inner world…for dealing with blue and sadness…so, in the realm of a soul, in the realm of my soul: my loving transcendence…ego is useful for surviving, I am also my ego…as you…I am my loving…someway loving comes from ego to me and then to you and then to us for the perception of love goodness, an experience…loving is sharing loving…ego is useful, loving is useless…

is this love?

fiction…she asked me…I love you,…is this love?…I answered: no…and I don’t know what is love!, but I know when there is not love but anyother sentiment and some other confusions…this knowledge is intuitive, mutual perception, cause if she feel doubt she doesn’t feel love…love perception and loving is an experience…no thinking…no reasoning…no purpose

what is love?

I only feel…I don’t know…I have a certain distance from those who guess know…or even want to know, cause love is a loving experience…required no thinking…no question…no purpose…performatic…out of time and space…close to saudade…close to amorous  feeling as in my experience…no scholar publication…scholar, what about scholar writing about love?…I am a beggar, I do love, but I can only share…my blogging is no thing  but sharing love…with you, you and the world…world?….I mean, people

love gift

pecan nuts salted and toasted: 1. sprinkle salted water over the pecans…2.place on baking sheet (ungreased) in a moderate oven (100-150 degrees) for 15 to 20 minutes or until nuts become crispy…they can easily become overtoasted…so, eat with your loved ones…sharing moments of loving

amorous writings

while I am writing I feel I am sharing with you, who reads now, a time and space…what is time?…what is space?…I keep going on the amorous free way…a single path…a single road…affection and fondness, even when I pretend, even when in loneliness…affection pretending drives me to solitude and amorous feeling…I am not taking a pretending theme, bue everything is goog?…really?…everything is right…everything is well in my life…I write very much I, my, me…style?…I guess not…I can not write about you…from you I feel love…me, myself, I, your, yourself, you…we, almost all…meanwhile, never, forever…forever, never…never, forever…forever, never…distance, time…here, now, tic, tac, tic, tac, tic, tac… me and your, yours, yourself, you, me, we

paisage

I read a lot…however I can not say about a specific book or text…I am writing more than I read…I feel my writings as writing things…things, objects, emotions, feelings, books,things…alive things…today is a sunday autumn day…cool…paisage is useless for me…I take perception and live the day…each day…after piano class I see the sky, watch to the crescent moon…and I say to the horizon what is this, life?

amorous

living the day…love, my daily bread…everything is well…my dear child is well…my mom is well…I feel…and the sunday is a shiny and good autumn day…the sky is blue…a sweet breeze…a cool day!…I feel me well…I feel me better, but paisage is useless for me…I feel I am living in this world and I choose some dimension…I feel I am living today…I see a gift…amorous feeling

autobiography

it is a motion…a motion writing…autobiography is a daily trials…I could write on other style…narrative style…is a way, but my way…and it sounds like music…my life, what is my life?…what is love?…I live my life, I am alive and I don’t know what is love…noboby knows…the knowledge from some reading, but I don’t know about my life…about life…or about love…in this moment of my life loving is my crucible way of living…autobiographycal expression is not autobiography, but is closer