Love, desire, passion are the rhythm, rime, poetry and natural expression of the philosophy of life. We must have dreams to live and we must live to have dreams. But fetishism is another thing. It truly is an obsessive, stubborn selfishness with the purpose of creating further obsession and more suffering.
The fetishistic does not longer lives but his fetish is the one who lives : A dog with no bone. A night with no stars. A full moon hid by the clouds. A temple with no images. A house with no doors, no windows. A heart which does not beat. A knife with no edge. A hungry man in front of an empty plate. A glass with no water.
What will happen to me without you ?
If the flower does not have the aroma, it is no flower. If the sea is not salted, it is not sea. If I embrace you and I don't feel your warmth, then, you are or i am dead.
The fetishism is like that.
The person does not longer lives. It is as needing a mirror to look at, trying to see if he/she has a face.
The fetish is the indispensable way to give color and savor to the life that is no longer its own. The fetish does not exist in reality. It is a fantasy of the aberrant imagination of a fanatical mind. It falls in love with the dream that never was and with the love that never knew.
The fetish is like that. It turns the all in nothing and the nothing of the fetishism makes of his fetish his everything.
Every fetishism wants to live the fetish. It is as if the puppet of the puppet master was the puppet master and vice versa. They have become a fetish, taking one from the other, then, nobody exist. It is the obsession of the illusion and the illusion of the obsession.
The fetishistic does not longer lives but his fetish is the one who lives : A dog with no bone. A night with no stars. A full moon hid by the clouds. A temple with no images. A house with no doors, no windows. A heart which does not beat. A knife with no edge. A hungry man in front of an empty plate. A glass with no water.
What will happen to me without you ?
If the flower does not have the aroma, it is no flower. If the sea is not salted, it is not sea. If I embrace you and I don't feel your warmth, then, you are or i am dead.
The fetishism is like that.
The person does not longer lives. It is as needing a mirror to look at, trying to see if he/she has a face.
The fetish is the indispensable way to give color and savor to the life that is no longer its own. The fetish does not exist in reality. It is a fantasy of the aberrant imagination of a fanatical mind. It falls in love with the dream that never was and with the love that never knew.
The fetish is like that. It turns the all in nothing and the nothing of the fetishism makes of his fetish his everything.
Every fetishism wants to live the fetish. It is as if the puppet of the puppet master was the puppet master and vice versa. They have become a fetish, taking one from the other, then, nobody exist. It is the obsession of the illusion and the illusion of the obsession.
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