25 Sep 2020 1:48 am
The place you visited once that you never forgot. Just being there once was amazing, it held all this history and posted all around paintings and actual pictures of people who lived there in what were deep forests of majestic beauty, some deep sense of parlance within its space that you would keep forever within your thought.
It was the place and the people who inherited its beauty who somehow truly felt indebted to its natural setting. It was a fearsome beauty of ruggedness that was shown in their faces and in their resolve.
It was truth, the kind of truth that could never remain hidden. It was real, and its realness was hallowed and solemn, and its soul would always live on no matter how hard the struggle.
It was the purest poetry minced with hard sweat and tears, it was intellect mixed with empathy, it was characterized by story tellers, who told of actual true characters more rememberable than any made up fictional characters, because they had the time and the need to tell this story, because their lives were hard, and because they did believe in the land, the place, that showed to them the absolute miracle of hope of better days, and not just for some, but for everyone.
Yes, it was partly instinctive, part of being human. We do carry this social genetics around with us. Yes it was instinctive to understand any true limits, and still entertain beauty within difficult and often sad times. Why, built into it was real empathy, being around each other, knowing what people deal with and understanding the frailness all human beings share, and this along with our unified celebrations,
And our deep need to spread any joy and to communicate with one another and to learn so others may benefit from our own mistakes, is that not liberal, is not nature itself liberal as it truly never obfuscates from its own descent. Nature is true, it was not ever hidden, it was always the place, this land that never forgot.
Peace!
It was the place and the people who inherited its beauty who somehow truly felt indebted to its natural setting. It was a fearsome beauty of ruggedness that was shown in their faces and in their resolve.
It was truth, the kind of truth that could never remain hidden. It was real, and its realness was hallowed and solemn, and its soul would always live on no matter how hard the struggle.
It was the purest poetry minced with hard sweat and tears, it was intellect mixed with empathy, it was characterized by story tellers, who told of actual true characters more rememberable than any made up fictional characters, because they had the time and the need to tell this story, because their lives were hard, and because they did believe in the land, the place, that showed to them the absolute miracle of hope of better days, and not just for some, but for everyone.
Yes, it was partly instinctive, part of being human. We do carry this social genetics around with us. Yes it was instinctive to understand any true limits, and still entertain beauty within difficult and often sad times. Why, built into it was real empathy, being around each other, knowing what people deal with and understanding the frailness all human beings share, and this along with our unified celebrations,
And our deep need to spread any joy and to communicate with one another and to learn so others may benefit from our own mistakes, is that not liberal, is not nature itself liberal as it truly never obfuscates from its own descent. Nature is true, it was not ever hidden, it was always the place, this land that never forgot.
Peace!