Beyond Myself, Somewhere, I Wait For My

Solitude Is The Profoundest Fact Of The Human Condition. Man Is The Only Being Who Knows He Is Alone.

The Universe Unfolds In The Body, Which Is Its Mirror And Its Creature.

To Read A Poem Is To Hear It With Our Eyes; To Hear It Is To See It With Our Ears.

We Pursue Modernity In Her Incessant Metamorphoses Yet We Never Manage To Trap Her. She Always Escapes: Each Encounter Ends In Flight. We Embrace Her And She Disappears Immediately: It Was Just A Little Air. It Is The Instant, That Bird That Is Everywhere And Nowhere. We Want To Trap It Alive But It Flaps Its Wings And Vanishes In The Form Of A Handful Of Syllables. We Are Left Empty-handed. Then The Doors Of Perception Open Slightly And The Other Time Appears, The Real One We Were Searching For Without Knowing It: The Present, The Presence.

Revolt Is The Violence Of An Entire People; Rebellion The Unruliness Of An Individual Or An Uprising By A Minority; Both Are Spontaneous And Blind. Revolution Is Both Planned And Spontaneous, A Science And An Art.