2. And at first there is little need to be happy. Just a moment, a little time and even necessary. It's easy to find that happiness and be a little place there in the middle, a play or drill in words or pictures. Not hard to imagine, for example, a miser guarding Seurat instantede pointillist happiness over time. Just look at the picture, read the lyrics, close your eyes and concentrate on that first time, Fausto, when you saw you saw Gretchen, that first time, Lou-Andreas, which crossed word with Rilke. Simple happiness, happiness principle, for its clarity happiness fills the world and blind as the first light of Prometheus, but therefore, carry or drag the punishment and the obligation as a lifelong companion.
needed little when one is still sunk in the abyss or the dark and asked just a sunbeam or a drop of dew for relief. When you're alone, before I knew, without knowing, but because of absence, the empty spaces, the outline of your shadow. So, at first, needless to make your name or your outline to smile in the dark; enough then wait, watch the void and assume your ability as a result. The prisoner was enough Montecristo just the illusion of being free to be. But looming just a change and the Hamlet is just nuts and shrinks increasingly.
So when I saw the first time I gave up and wanted the infinite worlds just your smile again How long is your smile, the first? Expiration date, I know, and has arrived, but did not know when. Perhaps to know your name or understanding with any degree of certainty, that I can see you smile nearly every day to fill the coming years. Your smile died when she stopped being an exception, when repeated. But the same, and although it had been your only smile that sooner or later would have become of happiness in torture, regret and death.
At first just a little to be happy. But the desire or need to know no bounds, give way quietly to the ambition. A brief moment happiness enough to have a lifetime ambition to become embittered every moment with the intuition of what is needed, with the contempt of what has or had and is no longer sufficient or enough anymore to be happy. Just a little, but then the natural ambition of happiness and desire, and will not be enough even the best of all possible worlds, or the sum of all possible worlds. No end in an expanding universe, there is no attractions and no limits. Even the eternal return is a consolation because it always takes longer and the repetition or neglect are not enough. Your smile put me on the threshold of time, before the infinite, but I have to reject it, because not enough.
A drop of water, like the rich man asked Lazarus is no consolation in the flames of hell. Any happiness is the great principle, but in an instant is negligible. Thus, neither to see you again, or are already receiving your smile or the suggestion of a temporary joy. A brief comfort makes the most terrible torment. And my torment is not got you. Others have you and sometimes is worse than the worst of my words. The first time your skin touched mine in a kiss near the air suggested in the casual greeting between strangers and hallways and everything else. That is no consolation, is pain. Because now I need to wait and suggested that kiss all the time, wake up, when leaving home, returning in the car, at the work, life, death, and in the brief interval between each point of composing this letter never reached you as you are now, before you know your skin called me. The outline of your shadow, your face unknown, your first smile, your name, your skin, everything is transformed before it can enjoy and perpetuate, in a perpetual longing, as the morning star announces the dawn, but does not dispel darkness.
I love you. So far what I write. After much thought, after more hesitation. I love you and that is not enough to be happy, very little. I love you and it hurts, because to speak, to write, I must also accept that my desire was never really fulfill my dear, I do not want to fulfill my desire. I want you away forever and always close, but never have you all. Love is the curse swear eternal search for happiness every day and give it every moment. Willful blindness of your skin, your face and your smile, I want to have you all and infinite desire as the storm itself endless possibilities and you are not, you define the absence and presence, potency and act. I love you, and that means that not even the sum of all moments Yours, seen and lost, the possible and impossible, past and future, will be enough to make me happy. In your smile I give up happiness for ever closer, each moment, without ever. Eternal distance division.
At first it is easy to be happy. But that principle is also the trap of anxiety, resignation, death into life. There is an infinite search of your smile, I can not summarize or your name, that now seems empty, inadequate. And so, lift the pen, though I admit that I love you I dare not write your name, because you are my happiness and therefore, the pain does not end.
-Und alles war neben dir geschrieben-
November 17, 2009
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