in the middle of the beautiful it feels good.
sure, nice discovery.
But like every thing even trivial and obvious This has several degrees of awareness - a bit 'like when you read the Gospel that says you have to be good and righteous. but surely that must be good and righteous, mica is needless to say no? and then, sorry, but what is beautiful? in the age of relativism and consumerism who can now speak of beauty? Sgarbi? Celentano? a guy I know, but I know really well, considering the beauty, as much or little it is, as an intrinsic property of any phenomenon or thing, especially beauty, according to him, is proportional to the degree of organization of a complex structure, in practice increases the entropy of the universe of beauty dimininuisce resulting in extinction of the same ... as say: Drop Dead Gorgeous - then said of beauty. a few weeks ago my eyes rested gently on coastal stretches between crock lemon intent to observe the endless blue sea, I then dipped in dark and silent woods that were lit only by a thin cloud faint glimmer of light that fell nientepopòdimenoche from the now rarely seen (for me) the milky way, I walked into the ancient cobbled streets surrounded by villages whose blocks of stone exude history and poetry ...
here, strangely my head in those days was a plethora of fantasies, tales of the rich metaphorical subliminal words, abstract ideas that took form in figures ever imagined.
then went back to turin, the routine, the inevitable tangential (but actually gives supreme sunsets) and the usual things. and the only stuff that I wrote was a crap ...
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