soul [Theme] Page 280

Soul is free from the conventions, but before she knows it, she follows "the rules". It is, however, a person understand, that the world is one big illusion as his heart gets the desired freedom. This is the purpose and meaning of the crisis that is going through a soul "meat" of the clip itself from the external environment, which she long believed to be the only possible and correct.
When the line is crossed when the conditional character of dispensation the world begins to be perceived by the person as a Convention, his soul is likened to the rider, who suffered a horse. The soul, indeed, moving full speed ahead, not assorting road, not obeying his rider. This condition, in fact, terrible, because the person loses all control of himself, but at some point, this madness begins to bring him indescribable pleasure...
Taking the decision to "die", it ceases to cling to life. It folds its wings and enjoy its free fall. The soul received a new experience of life one day. It seems that this is the moment "now" that is life. Now everything becomes so simple, clear... Everything you can think of, opens it in his impartiality, in his innocence and bezgramotnosti.
The pleasure of losing control. Enjoy life in which there is no yesterday, no tomorrow, only today. The pleasure of relief efforts.
Like tomorrow will never come... And it will come.

Soul like a baby bird. Coming into this world, she looks at him from the parent nest. She can sing and have a fun, carefree look around, enjoying the beautiful views. The innocence of a child is happiness of the soul. But time passes, people get older and there comes a point when someone pushes his soul out of the nest. But we are not talking about the parental home, it is about that house that grew inside of the man.
This inner home, this is the internal way of his life - his worldview, his view of the world, his view of himself. It's his dreams, hopes, desires. And this house is crumbling. It turns out that life is different. It anyone don't care about your hopes or your desires. Anyone. To her and to you, it is nobody's business, because everyone is busy only with their hopes and desires. Everyone is busy only with themselves.
And opens up the abyss, and the soul is shaken. So you can fly, you should start to fall. You should see the bottom of your life that was born inside you need to soar upwards. And because the soul, without knowing it, looking for the bottom, the extreme degree of the fall, without which its true, full power flight impossible. She drops down, she is ready to break and die... This supposed desire for death is actually a desire for true life. But if she knew, she would have rushed down...

When the soul is in pain, her sense of life is dulled. She seemed to disorientated, loses its place in space. Gender changes she places with the ceiling. And the ceiling from the floor - she now knows. If before a soul could distinguish "good" from "bad", now she's totally confused - "good" and "bad" turned to her in an empty sound.
From pain, from intolerable agostoli of his suffering, the soul - like a stunned fish. She doesn't know what she should do and what, on the contrary, it should not be done in any case. She's a mess. It's like she carries a huge, uncontrolled current. It is often in those moments, with "stunned" the soul commits all of its most terrible nonsense, terrible and unforgivable mistakes.
Yet in this so strange, so painful, that even in that painful condition - there is something very, very important to the human soul. When you are lost, blurred the edges of reality, when leveled and conventions disappear, the soul first sees the world as if from outside. It is separated, as if levitated. She realizes that she and peace are not the same.
This is only the first step - it all starts with the infinity of solitude.
The first but very important...

Sometimes the soul seems to be that it's quite simple - to jump out of the maze in which she's held "passion" and "good." You just need to make a decision, and it's done. And the soul does not understand, can not understand that the maze and its fate in our world. That it is impossible to deny, can't pretend it doesn't exist and it doesn't matter. It is, and it's Fate.
Attempts to close eyes to reality, to create an illusory world is one of thousands of the sweet temptations of the soul. She paints a fairy-tale castle, she paints a world in which everything is simple, everything is right, everything is beautiful. The soul draws his castle, the memories, the traces of memories of a world where Beauty reigns. Only one problem - he that a lock is drawn, not real.
In fact, the soul remains all the same game with her "passions" with the idea of "good". Found a way - just a new configuration of the old forces, nothing more. The life of the soul in the body - the conclusion in solitary confinement. And the output that it "finds" is only the fruit of its sick imagination, her hallucinations.
Where there are interlocutors, the soul speaks with its own phantoms. And is terrified when, suddenly, aware of its own loneliness.

The soul is holistic, not divided into parts. It has no contradictions and internal struggle. But kazasis in the human body, it is in the tension field of opposing forces. It is motion of a charged particle between "plus" and "minus" between what can be called "passions" and what we usually call "good".
Our idea of "good" and "good" is not the truth of the world. Our idea of "good" and "good" is an algorithm that is created by mankind, wanting to protect himself from his own passions. Our passions - the flesh - part of this world. Light and dark - doesn't matter, their goal is always domination. Anger, fear, love - they all yearn for power...
The soul craves "power" and aspires to "be good". Both illusions. But she doesn't know about it. When her devouring passion, the soul, the excellent passion. When passion consumes itself, the soul rushes to "good". These forces play with her like a pack horse with a little defenseless mouse. However, the soul it seems that she does domestic work and growing.
Journey of the soul - a journey through the labyrinth with no exit. But I think there is a solution. Need time to realize how fruitless her search...

The soul knows neither space nor time. And because she is not born and does not die. She only leaves her home and returns to his home. And her house - not a world that we know, and not the human body in which it appears, having left his abode. Her world is Beauty.
It's hard to explain and impossible to understand that you can't even imagine... How it will Express? The soul is a particle of the world of Beauty. Angels world - "big" shower that came into our world thousands of times. Come along with all and underwent the same tests that are given to everyone, but not everyone be able to do. Angels are not the ones who rule the world, the angels are the people who know him.
Leaving the world of Beauty, the soul suffers. In our world, it lacks the former, the true Beauty that was her happiness. And she begins the search. She is looking for what I lost. She is looking for in our world Beauty. But it is deceptive: it is the senses, and the true Beauty inside of her not to see and not touch. How to find out what is behind the facade, if you not allowed inside?..
And the soul is deceived. Flying on the beauty you see and lose the Beauty that brought...

Grams of cocaine for a long time already costs more than a soul.

We are committed to something, bet on magic, hypocrisy, and lie, at the price of enormous efforts achieve the desired - and suddenly understand that what they achieved is no longer necessary and it actually achieved the sale of the soul...

You shadow, whose house became dark,
Strange pain didn't hurt you...
Your soul in darkness seeking...
I wish to make?

My soul is terribly jealous: she would not have made me beautiful.
Talking about appearance in my case is unreasonable: the case so clearly, and so are!
- "How do You like her appearance?" - And does she look like? I'm just a right to not give such a rating!
I - I: hair - I am male and my hand with square fingers, and I'm hooked nose my - I. And more specifically: no hair not me, nor the hand, nor the nose: I - I: invisible.

You can help the poor, poor soul - is unlikely.

Who will save your soul if you wont save your own?
Who will save your soul, if not you yourself?

Hell raised You, hell has given You another name, hell almost beyond recognition changed Your face, but not washed away any dirt from Your soul nor the stigma from Your body.