zondag 23 november 2014

Writersblock

It is pointless to stumble upon your true nature. 
The blog of MistaPeo * is seemed rather to be a block on my leg than an inspiring blog. 
Whenever time knocked on the door to write, negative thoughts brought me to another track. 
This went on until a few days ago when following questions rose on the horizon.

"What is a writer without a pen? What is a writer without surrendering to the ink flowing on the white paper? 

My ego had taken off to fool me over and over again untill words touched the paper, 
while fingers danced on the rhythm of the universe that wrote itself down before me. 
My whole body vibrated with the sound of its creation.

Did it finally happen? 
Did the writer wake up again with the love for being the instrument of the spirit? 

It all does not matter. All that matters is that we are kind to ourselves and each other for out of it flows the essence of our being. She is the nature in all of us and is unconditional love in whether being or not being our true nature.To be or not to be, remains in my mind. Although deep inside beats the heart with that which knows what the mind still doesn’t know.



"Nothing is more erotic than surrendering to the breath of the word 
caresses your body with the pen in which the ink writes with the seed of your life. 
Fluent creates the moment the soul with that what is between the lines. 
Where the void is, is the fullness of the writer. Where love is, is the song of the child. 

Nothing is more erotic than surrendering to the breath of the heart.
Love is without words and shows itself as the word
that silently connects with the love for each other. "