I Am Not I. I Am This

Back Of My Forehead I Feel Tonight A Whole Sky Full Of Stars. Under A Western Moon. Life Is Indeed Lovely!

I Am Not I. I Am This One Walking Beside Me Whom I Do Not See, Whom At Times I Manage To Visit, And Whom At Other Times I Forget; Who Remains Calm And Silent While I Talk, And Forgives, Gently, When I Hate, Who Walks Where I Am Not, Who Will Remain Standing When I Die.

Sharp Nostalgia, Infinite And Terrible, For What I Already Possess.

Dynamic Ecstasy Is Absolute Romanticism , Absolute Heroism . And Here I Return To My Point. From My Point Of View, After The Catastrophe Which We Feel And Think Is Universal, A Catastrophe Resulting From An Excess Of Useless Dynamism Of Useless Progress, Of Useless Realism, Of Useless Technology, After This An Unattainable Democracy Is To Be Reached Through The Conception And Realization Of A New Romanticism.

The Urban Man Is An Uprooted Tree, He Can Put Out Leaves, Flowers And Grow Fruit But What A Nostalgia His Leaf, Flower, And Fruit Will Always Have For Mother Earth!