A day of our lives February 2010 Oa essay

©copyright2013owpp

A day of our lives
—————

Last night I felt like waiving it all. Does it happen to you too?
Ironically, the arguments I want to run away from are the very reason I will not give up.
Even if the scales prove otherwise, working my character defects is now the reason for me to stay on.
So, I am hanging on a thread, as a spider, slowly weaving my way, consolidating my web.
My thread is my connection to my élan vital. To what is home now. It keeps me linked to my sparkle. That is why I hold on, toil my way through. Anneal the base.
My thoughts shout. Build a wider faction, extensions!
Outreach calls are of paramount importance yet, I have been shying away from that assignment.

We tend to build protective walls around us, which need to be broken down at some point.
Some build fortresses throughout their lives, staking up watchmen to mark their borders that stretch out further and further away from their former territories and lose themselves in it. Opportunities for light and life shrinking away from their grasp as the ebbing of a tide, leaving its emblem to be stamped on by the carefree, merry vacationer.
Others stay jammed between the doors of desperation, forlorn in an ocean of slavery to some addiction or another, plaguing them constantly with thoughts and acting upon them in a half-slumber, as if it is their destiny, as if they had no choice in the matter.
They live in a no-man’s land. In the crepuscule. Passengers erring between countries restlessly, looking for comfort and finding none.
Solace, evading their days and nights. Their soul giving them no rest. Until they are bestowed with the gift of sagacity and composure.
The skills for living in the right sense. Fully, truly, joyfully and peacefully.
Those miracles can happen. It is only up to us to create the vessel to receive them.
All there is to do is hope to be awarded with the volition to shape, mold it, as a sturdy thick, impermeable, hermetically sealed receptacle that will enable us to treasure those gifts never letting them out of our sight,
Whatever the cost.

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Sleep is… 1991 ( Translated in English with French original text )

©copyright2013owpp

This small piece is in the same style and written around the same time,
as the one I posted yesterday.
I hope you’ll like it 🙂

Sleep is…
———–

Sleep. A total submission to nature.

We cross the threshold of the unconscious
In complete freedom of choice. By need. By lack.

This lack, this ” weakness ” transforms you, puts you
in danger, sometimes, makes you see life other than it is.

Sleep is a submission to the unconscious where we cross the
threshold of nature.

________________

Le sommeil
———–

Le sommeil. Une soumission totale à la nature.

On franchit le seuil de l’inconscient en toute
liberté du choix. Par besoin. Par manque.

Ce manque, cette ” faiblesse ” vous transforme, vous
met en danger, parfois, vous fait voir la vie tout autre
Qu’elle ne l’est.

Le sommeil est une soumission à l’inconscient où l’on franchit
le seuil de la nature.