Tag: existence

  • A Bleak Mirage

    A Bleak Mirage

    A Bleak Mirage

    A bleak mirage of dazzling light
    Beyond imagination and illusion
    There is a world without dimensions
    Where stardust sparkles perpetually
    And everything is a mirage
    Hallucinations and nightmares feed on corrupted fantasies
    Everything is delusion
    Dismay cannot save
    A peaceful resignation is a key to survival
    For those spirits who dare to live
    Apathy and weakness fill the universe of the dead souls
    Chaos dwells in the eternity of an instant
    Dimness flourishes in the mystery of existence
    Ethereal and eternal is the realm of dreams
    Light and darkness merge into the abyss of the concealed and secret universe.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Blooming Flowers

    Blooming Flowers

    Blooming Flowers

    Blooming flowers
    Blooming roses, jasmines and tuberoses
    In all their beauty
    In my secret flower garden
    All the white and crimson shades
    And the delicate pink hues
    All over the soft and fragile petals of my flowers

    Lost in my dreams
    And forever bound there
    My imagination enslaves me
    As I am enchanted by the intoxicating scent of tuberose and jasmine
    My consciousness becomes a pure illusion
    And my creativity seals the box where I am trapped in
    Trying to forget my past and erase all the memories

    My dreamlike existence becomes my wickedness
    My longings become my fragility
    My soul is a blooming flower
    Which vanishes in a cloud of dreams
    I don’t exist, except in my fantasy
    I desire
    Hence I exist.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • A Burnt Life

    A Burnt Life

    A Burnt Life

    A burnt life has left me behind
    Shallow emotions would be forgotten
    Grief would leave a mark in my heart
    Because of all the traumas I had to bear all life
    It is suggested to be insensitive in this existence
    Because they would not understand all the damages left in my mind and heart
    They would see me just as a body without a soul
    I was just a high-grade intelligent entity with a bunch of degrees
    All the suffering and agonies were buried in the deepest place of my soul
    I was too sensitive, too unusual, too brilliant
    Hence I had to do much more than others
    I always had to be the perfect role model
    Nevertheless, I was all alone in my anguishes
    There was no empathy
    There was no connection
    And it was as if the sky had suddenly fallen on me, and the stars were burning out
    In the secrecy of the dark despair, I was left alone, and pains were stabbing my heart like tiny sharp daggers
    I always had as loyal companions my books
    Being lonely, it was the only refuge where I would spend hours
    Archaeology, Physics, Biology, Literature and Philosophy were my favourite topics
    And I would enjoy reading in English, Italian and French
    A burnt life without escapes entrapped me for a long time
    Leaving me with scars and awful remembrances.

    Esther Racah

  • Love

    Love

    Love

    Love is just selfish contentment. Love is a spiritual status of attachment to someone who makes us feel good and validated. We need to feel surrounded by attention and achieve illusory proof to be an essential part of someone’s life. Being a part of another existence makes us feel complete, we are delighted and in a safe space. We struggle to get attention and to pursue even a small area of time in someone’s life. We adore the illusion to be part of another’s someone, but in the end, we don’t take care of what is our essence—ourselves as whole entities without seeking outside our individuality. Indeed, we are complete realities believing to be half-ourselves, disconnecting from our true self. We need affection. We desire attention. We crave space and time from another’s life. We look madly for emotions which are already in ourselves. We seek togetherness to overwhelm our lack of self-knowledge and self-love. Asking for attention and care, we find reassurance and create emotional dependence.

    Nevertheless, it is a foolish illusion. We do choose to live in this big illusion, and hence we convince ourselves that we need someone’s love and care. In this way, we feel in a safe place like under the protection of soft and warm blankets. Love would be the safe place which rescues us from ourselves, avoiding to feel the void when we are left alone with ourselves. Thus we avoid looking at our reflection in the mirror of the truth. The truth scares us disclosing our real selves and natures. We do love the illusions which wrap our souls with a sparkling coat. But what does it remain once all the sparkles vanish? A spoil portrait of ourselves and hence we feel discontent, and we feel delusion and betrayal. Love is the support we believe to need to achieve happiness. Love is a golden cage which makes us feel valuable, powerful, vulnerable, dependent, fragile, proud and also deserted once we are left alone. 
    Esther Racah

  • Existence

    Existence

    Existence

    Nobody notices who I really am
    How I feel and which thought touches my mind
    Like the wind which caresses the tree chimes waving in different directions
    As they would find some stability for a fraction of time
    And then rapidly they would switch their positions
    Because that is their intrinsic nature
    Change is the way nature and humans try to survive
    Nothing is sure, and instability is the only certainty in this existence
    Despair is the reaction to a reality that cannot be changed
    And which must be accepted once we can change ourselves to avoid pains
    Our inner pains induce a change in our lives
    When life makes us struggle or despair
    Despair leads to our internal improvement and strength
    We wouldn’t improve without despair
    We wouldn’t reach a higher level of our self-consciousness
    Existence doesn’t involve stability
    Each time we get to a stable state
    We lose peace and certitude
    To ascend to the next level in our mind and soul
    The search for stability and happiness is a pure illusion
    Which we always hope to achieve in our existence.
    Esther Racah

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