of clichés which hid an incapacity and the ego of the mental sufficiency ? This Lack is a TOO MUCH !
And this stupidity to which this dream leads, this council of the ‘wise men’ who… — intuition, said ‘Cosmopolitan’*(2)…
– Me ? here it starts again, it is a nightmare again… – Me, I feel that this CITÉ de l’Aurore and myself are not of the same nature; I cannot recognize myself in which I perceive and hear from it here, I feel the urgency that there is to find an echo to my own inner quest, I feel that I lack this time so …
– HA, HA, HA !… the time, but we have all the time ! HA, HA, HA.
Yes, without doubt, even the time to get lost and to forget ourselves in fact one more time! But when will this finish ?…
– Do not laugh ! How can you laugh then about the difference of the other who feels his heart taken by sincerity and truth and do not find them in the CITY which should live them from the breathing of daily life ? He does not find this secret resonance to his soul, he only perceives the stupidity of a lack, one more, of depth and of very compassion in your beings. Would it be then to cut down from your sarcasms because of an impossible difference to assimilate in your natures of being ? Why those laughs so much out of line if you were enough open to carry and transform this so much obvious and glaring difference ? Is it not there the mission that has been conferred to you by your position ? Is it not a choice that you have made consciously ?
The use of power that your position confers to you is the exact balance of the secret inability of your own exclusion to yourselves. Each second which does not “germ” from the attention to the being and from his becoming is a knife stabbing given to the Consciousness which gives life to us. You kill the Life and the joy, you are the backwards filter of the Consciousness and one day you will have to discharge all this indigence and dishonesty of Ignorance.
You have the power to decide of who disturbs your plans in your little quiet lives, you sink yourselves in your own mire, and it is not a metaphor. I say to you that there is urgency, the urgency to encounter the depth of the being in this ‘Cité de l’Aurore’ which, until today, has only the name, not the soul, nor the truth. It is poisoned and you carry in yourselves this poison and make the others carry it as being the truth ? Your responsibility is huge, immense, all as the one who remains silent and tacitly accepts by refusing the fight, already weary, and bends himself in front of your exigencies of your verdict of your perverted beings by waiting the hope to become after… ? To become what, it is already too late, the poison has already acted on the heart ! There is urgency, do I say to you one more time, there is a prodigious lack, there is not here some sacred fire which could be the bearer of a desire of true fraternal share, there is only falsity and miserable, small and common life, but so