Free sex Milledgeville Naughty lady wants hot sex Madeira Beach Something deeper Something True Nisi credideritis, non intelligetis.
When I am asked for the truth of me, I am convinced it is not the truth that is desired, but an illusion that is bearable to live with. An image of their own design. It is for this reason that we cannot connect. We try to appeal to the superficial ideals of others without any thought to our own depth. With all of our science and knowledge (same thing), it is in the mystic or spiritual world we fail. The heart and soul. That is after all what we are looking for isn't it? Forever. Yet, we still try to build on these things that are only temporal.
Simply, we say we want it to last but the things that attract us are things that will not last. So we try to fit ourselves into a single mold that seems comfortable, normal. So then we can sum ourselves up in only a few words, saying, "there really isn't that much to me," or "what you see is what you get." It really only seems to be an easy way out of sharing who we are or thinking past what we see of ourselves. The enemy of a love is never outside, it's not a man or a woman, it's what we lack in ourselves. If we live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, how then can we believe we are living?
So when I am asked that of that truth of who I am, I can only say. . ...
Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I agree with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous. I don't really want to become normal, average, standard. I want merely to gain in strength, in the courage to live out my life more fully, enjoy more, experience more. I want to develop even more original and more unconventional traits. In the curious way that my idealism has been mixed with my fatalism, so that I can possess the soul of a dreamer and that of a cynic at the same time. I possess a power of magic to destroy the balance of a well-designed destiny with my diabolical mind. So I enrich my life and choose my destiny when I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing. Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat. My life shrinks or expands in proportion to my courage. I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy. For indeed my life is a perpetual question mark--my thirst for truth, my observations of people, all tend to satisfy a great, overwhelming desire to know, to understand, to find an answer to a million questions. And gradually the answers are revealed, many things are explained, and above all, many things are given names and described, and my restlessness is subdued. Then I become and exclamatory person, clapping my hands to the immense surprises the world holds for me, and falling from one ecstasy into another. I have the habit of peeping and prying and listening and seeking--passionate curiosity and expectation. But I have also the habit of being surprised, the habit of being filled with wonder and satisfaction each time I stumble on some wondrous thing. The first habit could make me a philosopher or a cynic or perhaps a humorist. But the other habit destroys all the delicate foundations, and I find each day that I am still...only a man.
Living never wore one out so much as the effort not to live. Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.
I am a dreamer. Dreams are necessary to life. A dream is always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that will be the miracle. Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together. Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living. There are many ways to be free. One of them is to transcend reality by imagination, as I try to do. We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states (of mind), other lives, other souls. The only abnormality is the incapacity to love.
I believe love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings. Do not seek the because - in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions. Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age.
I wish to grow and enrich my life in knowledge and wonder in truth of heart by faith in God. There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person. There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic. And so I make every moment a part of that, so that I might look back in the end of it all, and see the absolute beauty of the whole picture.
We all seem to be waiting for love, the core of human life. I don't wait for it. I create a world, my world. Alone. Stand alone. And then love will come to me. And then freely I, with a deeper instinct, will choose a woman who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a man. And in the hope that I may give a return to such a passion, with an equality beyond physical or mental, built solely on the strongest foundation of love. A woman that has strong foundation in her own world, that as a collision happens it is not destroyed. But instead becomes like a parallel world existing in unison with my own. Because in my heart I know that love does not consist looking each other in the eyes, but of looking outwardly in the same direction.

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Thank you, TIm
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