loving love

by walterdoege

with my akward english I keep on writing…no matter what life be, no matter what the love surrender be, no matter the pain in the love path…no matter even the helplessness and hopelessness that i may feel, no matter the hard work love be, no matter what deep woes I feel, I try to keep on loving…I feel love as a loving one…love is not a word, is not a matter of thinking…and thinking about love is a dangerous path…love itself do not permit be captured by any theory, or thinking effort…thinking love is a numb, an illusion and illusions does exist…I try to face illusions cause illusions and interpretations of love are nonsense and dangerous efforts…love is not bad, sad, is no negotiation…no property…if I am in love with you, you are not my property…perhaps the most subtil perception is that love, beyond perception, is a real joyful one, and self illusions about what is love is problem, misunderstandings, as self illusions about one self is dangerous one…if I am I, I am all this bulk action intended to keep on loving beyond illusions about living, love…I get all my blue and put this blue in a loving love…as a choice for keeping close to loveliness…loving love is sweet and kind and all sorrow and pain does not come from love…perhaps come from my trials to understand love…love is amorous sentiment, free sentiment, always with you, as my writing only does exist if you read them with open and loving intention, with open heart, with open mind, with open soul, with open body…love is a concrete one, concrete as my fingers tiping theses letters…as if love pain is a great illusion cause love is alaways sweet surrender…no thinking…somehow unique sentiment…so different from any other feeling…love is real and concrete as my missing tears drops…always sweet, always loveliness as a kind of joyful blues