Murmurs of an Unsound Mind

Stillness

stuck in dry and dream less slumber,

walking, waking, adrift in the night.

weary of this heart i wander,

the mind is longing to escape it all.

dark seas with no horizon.

forests bare without a sound.

whispers of my name are calling,

no man nor woman around.

desparate calls,

noise unending,

deafening maddness,

but a familiar sound.

Wise words from my mentor!

When Gabriel Garcia Marquez retired from public life due to cancer of
the lymph nodes, he sent a farewell letter to his friends, and thanks
to the Internet, it is spreading. I recommend that you read it. This
short text, written by one of the most brilliant Latin American writers
in recent times (not to mention my favorite writer for always!!!) It's truly moving.

-----------------------------

If I had a Piece of Life

If for an instant God were to forget that I am a rag doll and gifted me
with a piece of life, possibly I wouldn't say all that I think, but
rather I would think of all that I say. I would value things, not for
their worth but for what they mean. I would sleep little, dream more,
understanding that for each minute we  close our eyes we lose sixty
seconds of light.
I would walk when others hold back, I would wake when others sleep. I
would listen when others talk, and how I would enjoy a good chocolate
ice cream! If God were to give me a piece of life, I would dress
simply,
throw myself face first into the sun, baring not only my body but also
my
soul.

My God, if I had a heart, I would write my hate on ice, and wait for
the sun to show. Over the stars I would paint with a Van Gogh dream a
Benedetti poem, and a Serrat song would be the serenade I'd offer to
the moon.
With my tears I would water roses, to feel the pain of their thorns,
and the red kiss of their petals...

My God, if I had a piece of life... I wouldn't let a single day pass
without telling the people I love that I love them. I would convince
each woman and each man that they are my favorites, and I would live in
love with love. I would show men how very wrong they are to think that
they cease to be in love when they grow old, not knowing that they grow
old when they cease to be in love! To a child I shall give wings, but I
shall let him learn to fly on his own. I would teach the old that death
does not
come with old age, but with forgetting. So much have I learned from
you,
oh
men...

I have learned that everyone wants to live on the peak of the mountain,
without knowing that real happiness is in how it is scaled. I have
learned that when a newborn child squeezes for the first time with his
tiny fist his father's finger, he has him trapped forever. I have
learned that a
man has the right to look down on another only when he has to help the
other get to his feet. From you I have learned so many things, but in
truth
they won't be of much use, for when I keep them within this suitcase,
unhappily shall I be dying.


GABRIEL GARCIA MARQUEZ

My new book- Dear Summer

“I noticed the ice had already begun to form on my kitchen window. Everything else was white as far as the eye can see. It’s another one of those cold winter mornings. I’m warm from where I sit but I won’t be for long. Pretty soon it will be time to go out and head to work. Despite this fact, something keeps me sitting here just a little bit longer. Maybe it’s the thought of digging through the snow and driving on the slippery road that makes me stay. Then again, maybe it’s not. It’s days like this that make winter time an eternity and summer just a myth told by parents to their children to keep them warm in their beds as they lay down to sleep at night. When I was younger, summer was my favorite time of the year. Days seemed to last longer and the essence of carefree youth was so alive. Now, it seems more like a reminder of something that I lost at one time in my life. Summers were never the same for me after the summer I met Analise. Sometimes I still imagine her standing there, staring at me with crystal tear drops that make her eyes look like glass and her skin look like porcelain. Then a modest smile would shine through trying desperately to mask her sadness. She always smiled as if her lips never knew how to do anything else.”