“But human nature—“ Fuck you. Enough said. Human nature is what we make it, and you know that too, whether or not you want to own up to it—you cowardly excuse-mongering bastards.

poniedziałek, 2 kwietnia 2012


In Porto. Thinking about Elba. And that sums up all the thoughts that I had in my head since I'm here. Where is exactly THE home? I did not find it yet.. Is it another fake construct as love seem to be? Heard from a friend lately, that each one should stay in a place, where (s)he feels at home. What does it mean? What do you need more to feel at home apart from lovely people around you, a house (or a wagon or a tent or a mattress), a project, a kitchen (of course!).. ? How to adapt the concepts of love and home to the fact that nothing is for ever? That nothing is certain? Does those concepts fail crashed with the truth about the world around? Is it possible to redefine them, leaving apart the fake feeling of a security we are being taught to feel since childhood? How to love freely? How to stay somewhere without limiting yourself?

zostajemy, zostajemy, zostajemy...

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