Previous experiences. Thursday, December 25th 2003. Christmas. 10.45 am To the left of my bed, in Monopoli, a human spirit, the spirit of an ex-friend of mine, alive. I see a body almost inconsistent, but in its own way consistent, as drawn in the air but with its thick sui generis. Fabric of luminescent wires. The spirit tells me of itself: it was pride.
Sleepless night. Weird sounds. Miagolii and moans, trills, sound obsessions, clapper against the inner walls of a rusty bell, rattles, dragons of chains, rumors and sully sirens. Sound chaos. To get mad. Instead, after hours of acoustic hammering, you will be happy and fresh. Glad as a child who slips out of his arms to trot at his feet.
There are no auroras in hell. There are no tremors of love. There are no blushes. There is no sunset. No prayer. Everywhere the same landscape. Wherever it enters, the monstrous forest of the Ego and the Egos explodes.
The head of the Certosino bears the saraband, lying on the chest of Christ. On the breast of Love.
Injury him:
Prophet
Holy
Crazy
Paraclite
Armadillo
Eucalyptus
Armadillo from the sp. armado, armed. The Carthusian is armored with a hopeful faith and a lover. Eucalyptus, from the Greek. Well hidden, beautifully hidden. The Certosino is wrapped in normality.
They swear:
God is a mer. .
They feel raped
Leave the conflict
mess
The triangle, surmounted by the cross, on the frontal lobes of the Carthusian, is not only a symbol of the Trinity but also of Change with respect to the square and the rectangle, symbols of obvious sensibility preservation.
The hermit of Fragneto Monforte, very nice and friendly, on December 20, 1983, confided to him that he saw Assisi Massimiliano Kolbe. And through its transparent body cloister and friars.
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