I miss the world that doesn't exist anymore.
I miss the childhood that I never had, foods that were never tasty...
I miss the unknown that is dearer to the soul than friends of old.
I miss the high plains in late spring in Wyoming, which I never trod.
I miss the Ocean of California and the sand of Florida where I never lived.
I deem that I feel other people's feelings.
Cannot stop it - thinking they were mine.
But they never were.
Who am I?
When speaking to God, I feel my closest kin in the wind.
Where am I?
Alive only when loving,
only with fire in my lungs - breathing.
Fire of God.
The one who isn't afraid of truth - is the one not afraid of Life.
Silent sigh...
One with the spirit of life.
@elonmusk@realDonaldTrump@nytimesarts@Anc_Aesthetics@TheGodofSEO2@SashaJovicic@AmericanaAesth@RealJamesWoods@RobertKennedyJr@celestialbe1ng@poetswritersinc@TheBelovedRumi@TheSlyStallone@robertsepehr
If
If you deem to live
You have to die
If you deem to die
You have never lived
Many a time you die daily
Just to be reborn
Whispering voices silent,
Hounding the words without ceasing:
Do not go, do not do, careful.
Stop, wait, do not ask, step over
Don't, flee, take, burn
Hijack, steal, carry away, place it
Slow, fast, no way.
A hum burdening your time
Suckling the innermost spirit of thine.
And then?
The Life is yours, or of voices?
All is death should you hearken
All is life if you're your own.
Should I intend to live,
I must be born again —
Spoken in kin,
Moved within.
The songbirds keenly to your ear sing.
Lord knows about what.
But if…
Only if you decide.
@elonmusk
Слика Срба је компликована као и свака стара слика или фреска која је временом бледела па доправљана како је век по век пролазио.
Ипак суштина је остала, у сваком правом Србину постоји небески завет. Он није религиозне нити политик�� природе и он је жестоко злоупотребљаван од свих облика власти у Србији.
Сваки сушти Србин је у души Божије дете, слободан човек, неоптерећен дневном политиком.
Ипак, приморан вековним нападима на суштину његову и примораван да силом припадне некој културно државној целини и слици.
Србин свакога може да разуме и да му се прилагоди али њему, тешко.
То је природна категорија.
Необјашњиво врло често и самим Србима који то негде у души осећају.
If we go the the Stars
What shall we bring with us?
To strive, to dare.
Not in blood
But in knowledge and love.
To thread the invisible
And make the starways
We will carry ourselves...
Ever the call of the dawn
Is whispering to leave the yester
To leave the pain behind
Undone.
Ah...the light is calling us!
To the Stars!
@elonmusk
@Jeremy_Homschek@DjokovicFan_ Really? Because he wanted just to be treated as a peer but got booes and spiteful comments?
I remember well the last 20 years, only too well.
When did they start to respect him?
When he beat the daylight out of them and then some.
Some people only understand that language.
@turnertyler8486@DjokovicFan_ Dude is honest. Both Spain and Switzerland are literally west from Serbia and belong to the collective west. If you need more education, say the word.
Oh, your comments are exactly the fuel he used to get him 24 grand slams, 8 years number one and few other "perks".
Thanks bud.
It's really from May until October that is unbearable inside in Paris. Outside it might be a cool day in summer hut the buildings are such that moisture lingers on. So you need an AC to cool or take the edge off for about 5 months. But that's not new, it's for the most of Europe.
Europe is divided into two camps - ones who melt & sweat in the summer claiming about magical two weeks of hot days VS the smart ones.
Wrote this on your you tube and facebook.
Eucatastrophy at its high.
"Suddenly her winter passed" her own woven spell was bursted. She was healed by love. But true love of another man, not the mirage of her construct in her head. This is the great example how Tolkien showed that Love is the power. It cannot be controlled by Men and it bears fruit wherever it wants.
To expand a bit on this comment which I wrote on you tube as well, namely - the Love saves.
It was literary Love which wrangled the chief Silmaril from Morgoth. Neither rock nor steel nor dark majesty withstood it.
And here, it saved both Faramir and Eowyn.