While sleeping sometimes I wander through a place where Time and Space melt together, a fixed point in Reality where the chill of the night summer wind intertwined Time and Space with my mind and my dreams.
Maybe this is what happens when you walk right through a place like that: silent like a tomb, magnificent at night like a mausoleum, crowned by mountains. Actually a giant open wound, caused by our violence against Nature, against Mother Earth. For we are nothing more than greedy, overfed, puppies.
But if you approach respectfully… with compassion and reverence for the Genius Loci, then, what is going to happen?
Do I study for this final even though my grades in the class have all been really high?
A bottle of prosecco is the answer.
Prosecco is always one of the best answers.
“Whatever causes night in our souls may leave stars.”
Victor Hugo, Ninety-Three (via portionsofeternity)