Best 7 quotes of Pat R on MyQuotes

At that time, a number of myths were created by the young people of the smoking carriages and forests of hallucinogenic mushrooms, the hungry for the thirst of lysergic acid, who were too tired of the suffering they grew up in and needed to take refuge in dreams. In these children's universe there were unbelievable stories about places in the mountains that women sought to retreat to, places where people were united by music and love for a mutual spiritual growth. For Aunt Jeanine, who had grown up with the image of her father, an amputee due to the war, feeding on such stories was like a haven, one she would later try to turn into her home. And one of those stories, one particular one, stood in her memory until the last stage of her life, when she passed away at eighty-one, burned with fire. (...) At that time, kid, they said that if we searched enough, we would find a place where the world wouldn't end. Men would never know what hell of a place that was, totally unconquerable! A place where the dirty hands of men would never arrive. A place men would never know about . Don't you think I could find it? To have my body disappearing in the woods, as I saw happening to kids in Japan, in that forest that swallows them to its core. Flesh turned to powder, my essence disappearing in the middle of life. They said that, when you die at a place, you'll stay at that place forever. That was why everyone was afraid to go to war. They weren't afraid of dying, kid, they were afraid of dying there.

Masturbating the meaning of life since 1987. #lovewithmeneverdies

Nessa altura, vários mitos eram criados pelos jovens das carrinhas de fumo e das florestas de cogumelos alucinogénios, os famintos pela sede do ácido lisérgico, que estavam demasiado cansados do sofrimento em que cresceram e que precisavam de se refugiar nos sonhos. No universo destas crianças, corriam histórias inacreditáveis sobre os locais nas montanhas que as mulheres procuravam para se refugiar, sítios onde as pessoas se uniam pela música e pelo amor, para um crescimento espiritual mútuo. Para a tia Jeanine, que já tinha crescido com a imagem do pai sem um pé devido à guerra, alimentar-se dessas histórias parecia um refúgio, que ela mais tarde tentaria transformar em casa. E uma dessas histórias, particularmente uma, ficou-lhe na memória até à última fase da sua vida, quando veio a falecer aos oitenta e um anos, queimada pelo fogo. (...) Naquela altura, miúdo, diziam que, se procurássemos bem, íamos encontrar um sítio onde o mundo não acabaria. Os homens nunca iriam saber que raio de sítio era aquele, totalmente indomável! Um sítio onde as mãos porcas dos homens não chegariam. Um sítio sobre o qual os homens nunca saberiam nada. Não achas que consegui? Ter o meu corpo a desaparecer na floresta, como vi acontecer aos miúdos no Japão, na floresta Aokighara que os engole para o seu âmago. A carne reduzida a pó, a minha essência a desaparecer no meio da vida. Eles diziam que, quando morres num sítio, ficas nesse sítio para sempre. Era por isso que toda a gente tinha medo de ir para a guerra. Não era de morrer que eles tinham medo, miúdo, era de morrer lá.

She falls back like a dead weight. The red hair loosens from the hair band and spreads in the colorful surface of the pillows, her white body is in sharp contrast, the gleam in her bloodshot eyes becomes intense and shines. My aunt, lying like this, looks like a goddess in an orgasm, only that, inside, she is suffering. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. The same is happening to us, we're really disappearing. I think of the matter of our bodies, changeable, disappearing in the particles of the air while we breathe. In this room, everywhere, we are printed on the walls, in the air that settles on things. I breathe and look at her. I'm stuck in her.

The trick to loneliness is to spend a lot of time inside one’s head.

The Truth! The one we seek throughout our life, without realizing that it is inside...in here, father...in here, where I am pointing to, in my chest, in a genetic junction of stories, in the violet and golden tones of a sky that hides nothing more than its beauty. While the goddess waves at me, I see the exact half of each one of us, the one that we'll tirelessly search for every year of our lives without letting us realize that the dream is crazy.

We are all so happy. If we only could realize it.