"I was born there on this ship. The land ... ... is a ship too big for me .... It is music that does not know how to play. I will not go by ship. At best, I can get out of my life. "
TD Lemon Novecento prefer the certainty of death to the uncertainty of life on land. A history of "sad passions" in which suffering is characterized by pain, but the waiver to abandon their convictions unquestioned and unquestionable.
Many people prefer to die with his ship. Many people prefer not to deal with the pain to go down and dive into a new life. This is a real qualitative change in the mental suffering that finds its reasons no longer in pain but in the same crisis of society. A crisis in the crisis.
And the crisis is the lack of prospects, and the collapse of the ability to create, to invent and come up with is the uncertainty of the future that is no longer dream but real threat is the lack of initiative, in search of the most perfect form of thought of defense.
And the crisis is reflected in every individual who alone, more or less consciously choosing to become a forum of himself and extent of his own thought. A thought that you look in the mirror, thinking that it covers with the veil of uncertainty, a thought that it confuses cause with effect, a thought in which the horizontal direction is defined by the words and ideas. A thought that warns of the danger and decided to remain on board his ship. A thought which does not respond to danger with the attack but with the defense.
And it defends the exclusion of the "promise" and "desire," he defends himself by learning to "survive" and to "live," he defends himself by eliminating the "experiential storytelling," he defends himself by reasoning in terms of skills steps to improve the efficiency and effectiveness of performance. " There is defended by stopping create.
we be able to take a step back? We will be able to overcome the "sad passions"? we will be able to make the autoprofezie not be fulfilled? We are able to overcome the dogma of the Immaculate observation "that the only possible reality is that I see myself and where are the measure of things?
"You never really cheated until you by a good story and someone to tell it." (A. Baricco, Novecento)
TD Lemon Novecento prefer the certainty of death to the uncertainty of life on land. A history of "sad passions" in which suffering is characterized by pain, but the waiver to abandon their convictions unquestioned and unquestionable.
Many people prefer to die with his ship. Many people prefer not to deal with the pain to go down and dive into a new life. This is a real qualitative change in the mental suffering that finds its reasons no longer in pain but in the same crisis of society. A crisis in the crisis.
And the crisis is the lack of prospects, and the collapse of the ability to create, to invent and come up with is the uncertainty of the future that is no longer dream but real threat is the lack of initiative, in search of the most perfect form of thought of defense.
And the crisis is reflected in every individual who alone, more or less consciously choosing to become a forum of himself and extent of his own thought. A thought that you look in the mirror, thinking that it covers with the veil of uncertainty, a thought that it confuses cause with effect, a thought in which the horizontal direction is defined by the words and ideas. A thought that warns of the danger and decided to remain on board his ship. A thought which does not respond to danger with the attack but with the defense.
And it defends the exclusion of the "promise" and "desire," he defends himself by learning to "survive" and to "live," he defends himself by eliminating the "experiential storytelling," he defends himself by reasoning in terms of skills steps to improve the efficiency and effectiveness of performance. " There is defended by stopping create.
we be able to take a step back? We will be able to overcome the "sad passions"? we will be able to make the autoprofezie not be fulfilled? We are able to overcome the dogma of the Immaculate observation "that the only possible reality is that I see myself and where are the measure of things?
"You never really cheated until you by a good story and someone to tell it." (A. Baricco, Novecento)
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