"How glorious it is, and also how painful, to be an exception."

~Alfred De Musset~

"You must realize that something is happening to you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall."

~Rainer Maria Rilke~

"Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth."

~Fyodor Dostoevsky ~

There are things that are
too big
for us people.
Pain, loneliness, death,
but also beauty, eminence and happiness.
Because of this,
we have created religion.
What happens when we lose that?
Those things are still too big for us.
What stays with us,
is the poetry of our individual lives.
Is that strong enough,
to carry us?

Due to intimacy,
we are attached to each other.
The connection is compelling:
she requires exclusivity.
Sharing is betraying.

When others abstain us from their
devotion, respect and admission,
why can't we just say to them:
I don't need all of that,
i have myself.
Isn't it an horrible form of un-freedom,
that we can't do that?
Doesn't it makes us slaves to the others?
Which feelings can you insert against it,
as barrier, as bastion?
Of which nature should the
inner freedom be?