Levitating

The thoughts are like gravity pulling us down not letting us fly.     I do not speak of the flight that is being "lost in thoughts" but of the love in action, of flying through the emotions.  Like two bodies levitating in the absence of any arbitrary force,  comes the the genuine excitement of searching in the hidden, in what is not yet known, something beautiful and magical.

What is beauty but a vision we have?   can beauty be actually judged and defined or is this yet again another form of rigity, maybe beauty is something we do not judge, nor overthink  simply feel?
Can beauty be separated? the trascendental from the material?   Maybe this is yet another trap of the duality...    For what can be more beautiful than the act of levitating in time and space with the femme,  feeling fire crossing and covering all the mountains in your soul, igniting the purity that for once breaks with the chains of time and space?

Some ways of illusion may set you free for a while, but this is merely like a kidnapper letting his victim free for a little while.   Then, a Stockholm Syndrome is developed and in the fake you fall deeper and deeper.  Alcohol,  emotional and material drugs, all which create visions of what we desire is but to reinforce the shackles.

 A song wanted by so many,  though in disgrace most do not arrive to the docks of its motion.   The selfish desire tricks human into believing he does not want,  the fear of sacrifice ironically only causes him more suffering.  As for me, I only but firmly believe that be it lost in the fogs of Bohemia or obscured by clouds in the Andes,  this feeling is one but none.   The elixir of life,  the point of no return.

Once the mind had set to fly, why would one go back to being frozed?    It's so worthless losing time craving, infitely desiring.   The Sun, Moon and Time cannot be defeated,  but they can be liberated.  When there's no craving but simply plunging in love; light and shadow are forgotten.  Even the air ceases to exit.

A melody of purity,  that's what it is the unperceivable love.   Idealized, talked about, and felt briefly in life.    Not to be obsessively wished for,  but certainly to aspire to,    losing oneself from gravity and levitating in the ritual of feelings lips next to each other,   holding and protecting fervently the fille's back and arms with your warm hands,   and through her eyes never to be the same after being consumed in flames.