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I'm not tryna ruin your fun You're just a little bit late, I guess you're already done There's this feeling I can't shake 'cause I'm too dumb I'm never doing the right thing, so I'm so stuck If you see me in America, I might say, "Hi" But if you meet me out in Europe, I'm a talkative guy Maybe we'll talk over scones around lunch some time And I've never been to France, so it might be nice But I can't take this paparazzi, jeez It's like the camera's always out and always starin' at me And if I say the wrong thing, they'll cut my tongue 'til it bleeds Always whippin' out their pitchforks when you try to speak (But that couldn't be me) Next day I'm walkin' the road Kickin' rocks, it's my fault My life's the worst story told I'll be this way 'til I'm old I rip a page out the book I'm just so misunderstood I always think about her And when my life felt good I smoked a cig' on the porch It doesn't help me at all I wonder, "What's it all for? Is this the girl I adored?" And I know I can't afford Watchin' her walk out the door So I keep it to myself And keep my feet on the floor

So be a philosopher, not just in thought but in action, and make your life a testimony to the light that never goes out, to the truth that never perishes, to the Good that is the origin and end of all things.

O soul that wanders in the dimness of the sensible, listen to the call of the light that does not go out: the world that your eyes contemplate, with its fleeting colors and changing forms, is nothing more than a pale reflection, a flickering shadow projected on the wall of a cave, where you are bound not by iron chains, but by the illusion that the ephemeral is all there is. Rise, then, and turn your gaze to the sun of truth, which shines beyond appearances, in the eternal realm of Ideas, where the Good, supreme and indivisible, illuminates all things with its divine essence. It is not the body that defines you, nor the pleasures that seduce you, nor the honors you pursue, but the soul, that immortal spark which, in its essence, is one with the cosmos and aspires to contemplate what is just, beautiful and true. So why are you content with the shadows when you were made for the light? Every step you take in the sensible world is an invitation to remember what you have forgotten: that you are truly a citizen of the eternal, a sculptor of destinies, a poet of reason. Life, O man, is not a burden to carry, but a dialog with the divine, where every question, every doubt, every pain is a ladder that leads you to the summit of wisdom. Do not fear the unknown, for it is only the veil that covers what you have already known in your soul since before your birth, when you contemplated the perfect order of the cosmos in harmony. Ignorance is the true prison, but philosophy is the key that dissolves it, guiding you not along easy paths, but along arduous ones, where the effort of thinking is the price of freedom. And what is freedom if not the recognition that the world is not an end, but a means? The things you see, touch and desire are only signs, pointing to what lies beyond: justice that does not corrupt, beauty that does not fade, truth that does not contradict itself. Your every act, your every choice, is a brushstroke in the painting of existence, and it's up to you to decide whether to paint it with the colors of virtue or the paints of illusion. For the Good is not a distant idea, but a flame that burns within you, waiting for you to feed it with the courage to seek, the humility to learn and the boldness to love. Yes, to love, because love is the impulse that lifts the soul from the desire for what is beautiful in the body to the longing for what is beautiful in itself, until, in the contemplation of the Good, the soul finds rest, not in stagnation, but in the eternal dance of understanding. But beware, pilgrim, for the path is full of traps. The crowd, blinded by the shadows, will call you crazy for leaving the cave; pleasures will seduce you with promises of comfort; power will tempt you with the illusion of domination. However, the true king is the one who governs himself, and the true rich man is the one who possesses wisdom. It is not the world that must be conquered, but your own soul, for it is the microcosm in which the universe is reflected. And when you know yourself, when you unveil the mystery that you are, you will see that there is no separation between you and the whole: the cosmos is your mirror, and you are the reflection of the divine. So live, O soul, not as one who fears death, but as one who knows that death is just a passage, a return home where the soul, freed from the chains of the body, will contemplate face to face what it now sees only in reflections. Every moment is an opportunity to ascend, every suffering a teacher, every joy a glimpse of the eternal. Don't look for the truth outside of yourself, because it is inscribed in your being, like a memory waiting to be awakened. And when the veil of illusion falls, and the light of the Good envelops you, you will understand that existence is not a riddle to be solved, but a hymn to be sung, and that you, in your essence, are both the singer, the song and the silence that precedes it.

O pilgrim of the instant, who walks on the tenuous thread of existence, listen: the universe is not just a mosaic of matter and light, but a living poem, woven with the threads of your own soul. Every star that shines in the firmament is an echo of your desire to understand, every breath of wind a whisper of the truth you carry without knowing it. You are not a grain of sand lost in the immensity, but the very immensity that is contemplated in human form. What we call the world is just a dance of mirrors, reflecting what you dare to dream, fear or love. Reality, so solid to your senses, is malleable like clay in the hands of your will, because what you see outside is only the shadow of what you cultivate inside. O restless heart, why do you seek the eternal in the confines of space, when it pulses in your every beat? Eternity is not a distant destination, but the now that unfolds in infinite nows, each pregnant with possibilities. Every mistake is a lesson, every loss a doorway, every laugh a spark of the divine that dwells within you. There is no separation between you and the whole, only the illusion you create by forgetting who you are: the sculptor of time, the painter of the skies, the poet of chaos. So embrace the mystery of your being, for therein lies the secret that the wise have sought in vain: life is not a question to be answered, but a song to be sung, and you are both the melody and the singer. When silence becomes you, and the veil of fear falls away, you will see that the whole universe is just a reflection of your light, and that with every step you take, the cosmos reinvents itself, eternal, one, yours.

O restless soul, who dances in the twilight of the ephemeral, know that the cosmos is not just a stage of stars, but a mirror of your own infinitude; for, in the vastness of being, every atom whispers secrets of eternity, and every instant, however fleeting, carries within it the promise of a universe that unfolds within you. It is not time that limits you, but the illusion that you are just a passenger in this cosmic theater; you are at the same time the author, the actor and the scenery, shaping destiny with the breath of your conscience. O man, who seeks answers in the shadows, don't you realize that the light of truth is not outside, but inside, burning like a flame that is never extinguished? Every doubt is an invitation, every pain a teacher, every joy a revelation that the world is nothing but a reflection of your courage to exist. And so, in the silence between two thoughts, in the space between two sighs, lies the supreme mystery: you are the universe contemplating itself, and your every choice is a brushstroke in the eternal painting of creation. So don't fear the vastness of the unknown, but embrace it like an old friend, for it is there that you discover that you were never separate, never lost, never less than the whole. And when the veil of illusion is torn away, you will see that time, death and existence itself are just notes in a symphony that you yourself composed from the beginning in the beating heart of the absolute. So live, O soul, not as one who fears the end, but as one who knows that the end is only the beginning of a new verse, written in the language of eternity.

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When everyone says goodbye to you, remember, you have gone by force, God will give you difficulty, prayed for courage, God will give you the fear, remember, there is a training for everything we want to have, it is like a ji-jitsu professional, to be really professional, he was shaped for this purpose, well, if he asks to win a marathon, God will not give him a pair of all the time is supporting you, only you can meet his supports and move on

Body and mind

When I knew that God was with me, I took courage