lunedì 9 gennaio 2012

anonymous writer

How many words you can never write on paper. How many times this melancholy curse of an anonymous writer ...
As the shock divine in you feel the irresistible urge to tell the world that lives in you, you are anonymous and this makes it all wonderful .. How many words flow in the mind of any man, out of the chronicles, out of time, nothing lives in the vastness of this world that is increasingly digital and loses the opportunity to see beyond imagination. But you, do not fear the time it runs against the tide, you're different or similar? Who can say.What moves the world, you wonder, to feel better in your madness, madness in you to say what lives almost as if someone felt the torment that lives in you. Words like a stream flowing in the crevices of your there and you against all odds continue to put words in the world that few listens and it says a lot. You who now hear only the voice of love that explodes in you want to flood the world of this feeling, but you know you're writing a margin. You're like a pen without ink on paper ...How many times do I observe you in your paradise that compose sentences without thinking. And yet the meaning of life is summed up in the words of a man always.Beautiful words and emotions of life, beautiful sense of freedom to see the thought fly far, but no name can fly away over time and someone will reap as a feather this thought, and as they say a smile comes on at times with two little words on and off with a single write ... But you do not fear those who do not know anything about you, do not need to know who you are, anonymous writer.
Those who live lives of others only the appearance of the importance of a cold contracted and happiness, they said. You who live in your madness, you laugh you are light in this, and I observe that they are silent on seeing a man who laughs at life that laughs at his troubles as if everything was just a crash mat and dust from the fate mocked. And I see, I have no words to write ... But only lessons to be read between lines without ink.Among those lines there is a secret world that lives in its becoming splendor, light and love, and all the gray disappears The minute the reality of this feeling that someone will read words and words. Envy can not exist for you anonymous writer, in this world where you do not ever do a comparison, your star has never been eclipsed in the darkness of hearsay, in worldly appearance. Do not you know these luxuries, you who are locked behind the door of your little world, and I see that I can only observe the tenacity of a writing that does not pretend lights and favors, no, no claims. But those who have crossed your simple words has rediscovered that little truth made of feelings that do not fear the time, because without suffering from writer's name is, messages are and remain without a destiny ...
Anonymous writer who leave words in the stars, your destiny is only for people like me, between the lines it sees in your words.
The words are never enough, but perhaps at times the silence is the real master of this miserable life. And I look at you I can hear the silence that make the words that I read now. At such times life seems wonderful, maybe I'm dreaming, maybe not really want to wake up ...But nothing lives forever at times ... But think about why? Better to dream and fly over to reality every now and then, is not the worst evil of evils that exist. Anonymous writer who said, better to fly than to be in the cage all day and look alive. You are the image of what I want, and you do not know what image you are for yourself. You are there in your world and you do not feel that it hurts really, to bypass this step is in you, the way of good there then .... I observe and see how your smile behind that door never shuts off, and you will be the anonymous writer, but he lives in this absolute truth ... You are free.

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