Friday, April 13, 2007

What does it mean to be real?
Someone real.
Not just someone who has a false existence and running around
Or making smiles or making jokes or all that.
But someone real.
I in my mind can hardly think of real people. Or maybe there are some. Some people who are real. Whose veil i can penetrate. the love, the need for company. the humanness.
Because mechanicality is not human. Because it only ofusciates what our souls demand; what it really needs.
Our souls have lives of its own; no one really sees a little bit but it cries out evermore; the soul
and it cries out for the living God; and for real people.
and it cries out but some hear it and some wait
with their loving arms outstretched to embrace our hungry souls.
these souls have a life of their own.
not my mind not my intellectual pursuit of what is right and what is wrong.
no, something deeper.
something i can taste with my tongue and feel with the touch of my skin
(it's different from seeing or hearing)
that something within.