There is such a thing as making the same mistakes over and over again. Then there comes the day when you realize you are living the mistake, rather than just repeating it. What was just troublesome surreptitiously becomes a habit. The frightening part is that old habits are so hard to kill.
What sort of stubbornness is worse than a sentimental one?
Is insisting on someone out of sincere neediness sillier or wiser than sacrificing oneself?
What’s certain is that the burden of being alone isn’t easily surmountable
Silence can feed as easily as it can make you falter
And if you nourish a hope on muteness, the heart is swiftly quietened
Quiet, cold and silent is a life no longer vibrant
How reckless is stupidity diverted to oneself?
How many of the same mistakes is one entitled to make?
How careless does one need to be before becoming one’s own bait?
How far into the past does one need to see before being freed from its shelf?
Every single night
I endure the fight
of little wings of white-flamed
Butterflies in my brain
These ideas of mine
percolate the mind
trickle down the spine
swarm the belly, swelling to blaze
The new album is out on June 19th.
Afraid of chances, keen on changes
Changes that challenge, churning chasms
To choose to try: chills in the spine
Choking but hoping a new life to find
The chemistry of feelings
Natural laws, emotional states
No matter how strong my will is
Changing without obliterating
What a challenging trial to make
Is my present my past remolded?
A lot is lost, a lot is taken
And everything is transformed
Again and again
Nothing is created from scratch
Posted in Arts, Images/Words, Literature
Tagged Angelo Venosa, art, Arts, Brazilian art, Brazilian artist, contemporary art, Literature, Thoughts, Words/Images