The Dream Remains Overloaded With The Badly

It Will Always Be A Fact That The Woman Is The Person One Idealizes, Also The Person Who Wishes His Idealization.

The Subconscious Is Ceaselessly Murmuring, And It Is By Listening To These Murmurs That One Hears Its Truth.

All The Senses Awaken And Fall Into Harmony In Poetic Reverie. Poetic Reverie Listens To This Polyphony Of The Senses, And The Poetic Consciousness Must Record It.

We Comfort Ourselves By Reliving Memories Of Protection. Something Closed Must Retain Our Memories, While Leaving Them Their Original Value As Images. Memories Of The Outside World Will Never Have The Same Tonality As Those Of Home And, By Recalling These Memories, We Add To Our Store Of Dreams; We Are Never Real Historians, But Always Near Poets, And Our Emotion Is Perhaps Nothing But An Expression Of A Poetry That Was Lost.

Actually, However, Life Begins Less By Reaching Upward, Than By Turning Upon Itself. But What A Marvelously Insidious, Subtle Image Of Life A Coiling Vital Principle Would Be! And How Many Dreams The Leftward Oriented Shell, Or One That Did Not Conform To The Rotation Of Its Species, Would Inspire!