Maybe sometimes it is in saying no that we can exist.
Atlantes and Caryatides, is there one stronger than the other? They are stuck carrying the weight of a dead architect’s dream. The mineral flesh of their stand and pose lifting carved mountains in these forgotten streets and alleys.
Would they bare holding up the gates of Hell while the tormented souls twist their tortured bodies’ within the rocks above their head.
Would their arms if not their beauty be strong enough?
I am going for a voyage outside of time, into an already written life but knowing my will may offers new angles at each turn.
We all absorb a succession of events or coincidences as they present themselves.
Before all the rules and morals, before the dictum I had to go back to the beginning. Our deep instincts get lost in the myriads of illusions our society throw, until all collide and we can only let go and say “no more”.
I went over my own gates and never looked back in regret. I didn’t hate it or try to destroy it. I just said no, went back to the other side, the same side I was as a child hungry for life and love.
If all the Atlantes and Caryatides of the old worlds would say no maybe we could all stand up by ourselves?