Newsgroup: it.arti.fotografia
Titolo: What ever happened to... BAM?

the question is the answer

 the question is the answer
A man locked in his own imagination. 
A world that seemed so deep and yet so open. A world that only he
himself can or could have atleast understood. He wanted to open his mind
to others, but they couldn't understand his writings. For only he
himself could understand them. They can be interpreted in a million
different ways. But when this man dies all the truth of his writings die
with him. For we will never know if the way we interpret his writings
are the true way to interpret them. All we do know is that that bitterly
cold saying will forever be locked in our hearts. It will become another
one of those unsolved mysteries. This man was utterly and unknowingly
making an answer and a question all in the same. A question that derives
from the answer or maybe an answer that derives from the question. If
the question is the answer itself then what keeps the answer from being
the question. We only justify by what we know to what we can understand.
If we don't understand it, it becomes a question. A question that could
most certainly be the answer. All of which are one question is so many
different forms. It is that question that bugs us all, that question
that makes us feel at ease and at the same time makes us feel tense.
What is the question? I do not know and probably never will. Hopefully
though I will someday know the question as well as the answer. Though
the world stands on end, it is only us who can bring it back to its
rightful place. Only us. By asking questions that have no answer we are
only wasting time, time that is so precious that we can only hope that
we ourselves do not bring the world down. We feel that if we knew what
life was for, or what death was like we could change the way the world
was. No, it is not possible by finding answers to questions that are not
meant to be answered. You must understand that if we want to be that
society of our imagination, then we must put ourselves to the test. We
must make ourselves join with each other to understand all of this.
There is no more joy than to know that you have no limits. You do have
no limits but you do have the right to choose. Choice is such a big
thing because we make the wrong choice. Some people ask their conscious
what is right, and some people ask god what the right choice is. Those
are the people who make the wrong choices more often than anybody else.
What we are actually doing is asking our minds what we think. It is the
same thing as kids talking to themselves. It is the same thing only we
actually think we are talking to god. It does not happen that way. Our
mind plays many tricks on us, and we must realize not to let these
tricks jeopardize our future or our life that we are living right now. 
So the final question is "Can we do it?"
A man, alone into his selfmade perfectly-round-perfectly-smooth cage,
can see, can't touch, can only hope in hopely-hopelesslyness.
Now the natural statement is: 
" you can't answer it because you can't question it. You can't choose
loosing yourself between the two mirrors where you are now laying. "

 ha scritto nel messaggio
news:1fphtyj.1u4cxkpn6lauyN%B...@baz.org...
Mi sei mancato.
--
Phil O'Sophy || Filippo M. Caroti
www.filippocaroti.com
phi...@libero.it
______________________________________________________
"At my sign unleash the hell."                 (Maximus Decimus Meridius)
______________________________________________________
"Suonavo il piano nel bar di Rusty da quattro mesi o giů di lě, quando
incontrai Rima Marshall.
Entrň nel bar una sera di temporale, con la pioggia che batteva sul tetto
di metallo e il tuono che rombava in lontananza."              (J.H.Chase)
______________________________________________________
Cast a cold eye
on life, on death.
Horseman pass by.                                   (tombstone of W.B.Yeats)
______________________________________________________
Alě, boma yé... Alě, boma yé...  (100.000 people in Kinshasa stadium)
______________________________________________________

> the question is the answer
ERA ORA!
--
Marco "Lo Iato" Ioannucci
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IAF è una fumosa osteria, però io non fumo e sono pure astemio
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eccomi.
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