I Give You This Hand

I give you this hand, that is still young, younger than I have thought it will ever be, even if now, I am older, and if I may say so , I am more mature.
Is a young hand indeed, a young hand that needs to write a message, but it also needs to remember how to breathe. "I would breathe but the air is missing!" It tells me very often.
My friend, I know what you may think, or what you may think that you know. Once you have had a dream into creating something. Answer me please : What has become of it? Wasn't your dream about holding an iron blade and hitting with it a big rock on the sea shore? You have imagined that you can brake the rock with it, and you kept hitting. How come you never realized that the blade will be destroyed, broken in thousand piecess, and you will remain there, alone, looking at the mighty rock, who has lost only a little dust in your huge effort.
Yes my dear, you were thinking at it. Thinking that you're something that has no age and no end. At glory you thought, riches you desired. And in the end what is left? Two eyes, two legs and 2 hands. "What about the mouth?" you'll ask. And I will answer: Yes, I had one, but not anymore. In a world where people, at least most of them are nothing more but a huge mouth with what they can only scream and talk nonsense, I preferred to erase mine from my figure.
You still wait for the sun to rise on your street? Still? Then sit on the chair in front of your window, and count the months until you'll realize spring has come. Hurraaaaaayyy! Is spring!!! A dystrophyc spring, which can only scare the sun away. Life is grey my friend, not pink, and not black. We are who we are, we are what we are. And what is left? You remain crawling and coughing in the sweet pollution, that our ancestors have made, and our predecessors will make worse.
I still am dumb enough though, to believe that writing can change something. So here I am. And I write. This is why, my very dear precious friend, I give you my hand. This hand which is still young, en spite the fact that my soul is older than the world.
Use it wisely, use it gently, make it's writing soft and cutting in the same time. Do something with it. Is your only fortune.

Time Passes Fast

Hm, I have logged in, after long time, in my long lost blog.
I have to confess, that I have had another blog, on the ex yahoo 360, which has been canceled, without me knowing or understanding why, because there was a good chance into posting the best lyrical ideas one could have. :-)
Anyway, I have seen that here also is such a possibility, and as starting today I am officially older, I have to admit that I will not make it as it was, but try to give it a "grown-up scent".
There are many things to be said, many things to be shared, and even if people don't follow my blog s absolutely ok, I write for myself and the world, and I believe that it will be found a common idea between me and the other people.
This shall not be a critical blog, or a blog that describes things in a critical way, such as making the others feel offended. I believe in the message-within message idea, and in the philosophy of "read twice and feel the revelation".
This is us, simple human beings, and our job is to leave behind ideas for in order to give our followers hints of who and what we were, because, all what remains in the end is just the memort of a small person, with slim body and big brown eyes, with ideas.
Hope that people will like my writing, and also I hope that I will be able to post a new thing at least once/ week.