niedziela, 22 grudnia 2013

Say You do...

I had to repeatedly ask him to not to be ashamed of his body . He always looked fearfully if I look at him when he's naked . It was always :
- Turn off the lights .
- Why ?
- Turn them off , please.
- But why?
- Don't you understand ?
I didn't understand . He was probably suspected that when I look at him when he's undressed , I fell something like, that I become richer by all his aches , his suffering , his 'passing away' . I experienced a lot , but it wasn't so important to me compering to what he has been through . No, it's not that, that I shared his suffering with him. Does love needs compassion anyway ? I mean , I felt his existence as my existence . Are you asking what does it mean ? The fact that you like all the burden of one's existence wanted to take as mine . Like you wished release someone from the necessity of living. As if you wanted to die  for that someone , so he don't have his own experience of dying. And this is something more than compassion , as we generally understand . At the same , even if imaginary , the ability to feel , that makes me want to live again . You say it's impossible. It is possible to be impossible.How love  should be the measured ? According to what we would feel ? According to the desires of the body ? The body has an end , and much, much earlier, before death comes.

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