It 's a thing. An object. It has no soul. He did not speak. He did not breath. Do not look at it. Still alive. Fed live your life, your thoughts, your love. There are things that can only be yours and no one else. There are things you can buy back because you lost. But look, in depth, which does not have the warmth of the first. That do not fit smoothly in your hands, your head, your body, your home. They are the same ones you've lost, but seem to have lost all their emotional charge. It 's like if you had uploaded energy the object you lost and now that you have one the same, this is empty.
There are things you can not pay. There are things that have absorbed mood, tears and adrenaline and that if you're in absolute silence, riecheggiano di risa lontane, di musiche dimenticate, di discorsi ormai inattuali, di decisioni importanti, di sciocchezze tanto per dire.
Ci sono cose che non puoi vendere. Non hanno un prezzo di mercato, come le tue emozioni che sono ancora là, in quella materia sintetica che pulsa all'unisono coi tuoi battiti.
nb: Sopra, "l a sedia di Gauguin " Van Gogh
0 comments:
Post a Comment