wondering

read this

read this

Choice Vs. Destiny, freedom vs. fear

Meanwhile, the old man persisted in his attempt to strike up a conversation. He said that he was tired and thirsty, and asked if he might have a sip of the boy's wine. The boy offered his bottle, hoping that the old man would leave him alone.
But the old man wanted to talk, and he asked the boy what book he was reading. The boy was tempted to be rude, and move to another bench, but his father had taught him to be respectful of the elderly. So he held out the book to the man—for two reasons: first, that he, himself, wasn't sure how to pronounce the title; and second, that if the old man didn't know how to read, he would probably feel ashamed and decide of his own accord to change benches.
"Hmm…" said the old man, looking at all sides of the book, as if it were some strange object. "This is an important book, but it's really irritating."
The boy was shocked. The old man knew how to read, and had already read the book. And if the book was irritating, as the old man had said, the boy still had time to change it for another.
"It's a book that says the same thing almost all the other books in the world say," continued the old man. "It describes people's inability to choose their own destinies. And it ends up saying that everyone believes the world's greatest lie."
"What's the world's greatest lie?" the boy asked, completely surprised.
"It's this: that at a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what's happening to us, and our lives become controlled by fate. That's the world's greatest lie."
"That's never happened to me," the boy said. "They wanted me to be a priest, but I decided to become a shepherd."
"Much better," said the old man. "Because you really like to travel."
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fragment from The Alchemist written by Paulo Coelho


I posted this fragment now in order to make a contrast with one of my elder posts about a phenomena that I used to call Cain (click here to read) and what another culture symbolically calls Amalek.

I have

I never had anything. What I have is not mine and it never was. Not even myself. Myself is not my self. Don't wonder. Where are the walls between the stars when ravines fall to break apart in water? I fall. I climbe again the mountain to get inside my mind. I fall again.
I love you all. I'd love to see you love each other, to see you trying to understand each other instead of expecting the others to understand you.
No one owes me anything. If I ever helped you, give me nothing in return unless I ask for something. Oh, there is something that you owe me: go and help someone as I helped you if I ever did.
After I pass away burry me in my beloved village! Cover me with ground and nothing more! Put a cross near to my head. A simple one, a wooden one... Let a child write my name on it.
Have always in mind: "17 He that is a friend loveth at all times: and a brother is proved in distress."; "24 Wisdom shineth in the face of the wise: the eyes of fools are in the ends of the earth." Proverbs 17

I am not sad.