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Opis bloga
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mTn_v08ZJEM


"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering,
known strle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”

Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

“Being with him when he died was something I will never forget. His bravery. His happiness. His acceptance. It was a colossal experience for me. Changed my life completely in a way that I had not expected. I expected to feel sad and lost. But I felt the opposite. Just, like, ‘Boy, this is it. This is all we have. Right here. So you’d better pay attention.’”

Laurie Anderson and Lou Reed


“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power.
Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget… another world is not only possible, she is on her way.
On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing."

Arundhati

“I hope you will go out and let stories, that is life, happen to you, and that you will work with these stories... water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom.”

Clarissa Pinkola Estés


“May the sun bring you new energy by day, may the moon softly restore you by night, may the rain wash away your worries, may the breeze blow new strength into your being, may you walk gently through the world and know it’s beauty all the days of your life.”
Apache Blessing


“I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.

And I will not be afraid
of your scars.

I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.”

Clementine von Radics





Linkovi
vidrinsmijeh@gmail.com

SarahBernardht
17.12.2019., utorak
Bez mene

Ova gužva po gradu, strava. Nervoza u redu za kobase. Grad koji ne prepoznajem.
Seljačija na najjače.
Sad kužim Dalmatince. Daj mi vrati tišinu i mir mog Zrinjevca. Da čujem vodoskok. Daj mi moj Gornji grad gdje mogu na Štrosu mirno sjesti i meditirati sa svjetlima u daljini. Sve ovo glasno, šljašasto i kičasto, ne privlači me. Odbija, točnije je reć. Prisilna zabava. Za raju. Lažan raj. A na svakom koraku s druge strane, gladni, prosjaci, beskućnici. Blijedi, iscrpljeni od potrage za svojim dostojanstvom.
Izmoždeni od nade. Života dan po dan.

Kao ni svoj grad, tako ni njega
više ne prepoznajem.
Ugasio se sjaj.
A ja tinjam s mojim prevelikim rukama, očima, nadama. Tinjam tu ko ona smiješna mala tinjalica na rubu grada.
Razgovori zapinju. Zamrse se. Riječi se pogrešno čuju, izgovaraju, tumače.
On želi sve popraviti poljupcem, zagrljajem, željom.
A ja sjedim naglo probuđena pored njega, ravnih leđa, ko od stijene odvaljena. I ne mogu mu pružiti ruke za zagrljaj. Ne mogu. Obuzima me stara tuga, ona tuga stara par stoljeća, divovska, u prevelikim cipelama, raskuštrana od ove pretople zime.

Što to odrađuješ, srce moje?
Koje to preduge šutnje, neizgovorene misli, tajne i sumnje, prekinute niti, krivo dodane lopte, igre skrivača?

On se ispričava, ispričava za sve, mada ne zna što je kriv, i zašto tinja ta stijena pored njega, koja ne može pružiti ruke ni za jedan običan zagrljaj.
Ne može.
A riječi zamršene stoje na stolu, umorne riječi, koje smo ispljunuli nakon što smo ih dugo krckali pod zubima.

Bit će teško biti sama.
Istetovirat ću na lijevu ruku, odmah iznad zgloba: Live and let die.
Nije puno slova i neće puno previše boljeti, zaustaviti tu Majku Terezu i napokon dozvoliti ljudima da žive loše, piju loše vino, glume da su sretni, uživaju u ovoj paradi kiča,
dozvoliti njemu da živi svoj život
najbolje što zna.

Bez mene.




- 20:40 - Komentari (26) - Isprintaj - #

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