SitePatricky Field THE REAL LIFE

The history goes on

May anyone find the reason out?

It happened now and then... More now and then than it should be, I may say. Some kind of unexplicable stream that runs along and makes the people act the same and impressive way.
Is there anything wrong about the words?
There is, it seems.

It didn't start as soon as the first book of mine has been published, but as the time went by, I could notice something strange about that. There were few ones, one here, another one there, who looked at the publication and used to say: No, thanks.

It is absolutely normal, there are people who like reading, or not.

Then the book travelled, went to many countries, there are titles with another international writers, queens, news, and lots of individual readers. And the schools...

Well, it is just the point, when the thing started getting "comic".

Why do writers put their books out?
1st: To make their works go around.
2sd: To create a link with another ones who may read those words.
3rd: To sell. There are people who live just by that - few ones, I may say.

Everyone knows that. And who else could get and receive the works from a writer better than the students in any school? Well, it was what I tried to find. The return from the schools, whose work is direct pointed to the learning and reading.

The first book has been well accepted, and it was a short ago, some years. But soon after, it started happening some words from the people: "Well, I may buy some four or five books, but I'll do that to help you out."
"Just to help you"

That was the general sentence.

Didn't it seem anything more like this: "I'll do you this charity"?

I wasn't asking anything, if you may see, and I know you can.
I had worked hard, not for writing all those words, but to make them go out in printed books, and I was inside an educational establishment, talking about books and doing my work. After all, I'm a writer, and that's my work.
But that was just the beginning, after that first happening, the thing turned really "comic", when they started just turning their backs, like it was quite a sacrilegious to do what I was doing: Trying to sell books to libraries and schools.

It happened to the municipal secretary, who received the book and did a real show of despise and lack of respect. They lost the copy, then another one has been sent again, they not even spent their time to read, and whenever a calling was done, they always said it was not estimated yet. Then, after a long time, I just gave up, because it turned into a real circus show.

But the worst of all is that, working inside a educational establishment, people who did another publications had their supports by the same school. What is natural, because who else may support any writer than the schools? But that old phrase: "I'll try to buy just to help you" has been heard all the times we do talk to the people who do the rules in the school... Can you believe that?? How can a person who just rules an educational establishment say something like that? And worst is that they did nothing more than saying that, and turned their backs too.

40 copies. That was what we were trying to sell to the municipal libraries.
20 copies. That was what we were trying to sell to the school.

Isn't that disgusting?

Well, I do think so, because it is a work which they are despising in exchange of nothing, I can't understand the reason for all that but the meanness and lack of respect, and that's quite sad.

Because there are words better than mine, there are words worst too, but all of them deserve respect and to be treated like they are: Souce of knowledge and a place to rest some thoughts.

That's all I came to say...

I've been thinking if you ever tried the same in your life, but now I just say that my words are here in this place too, for the ones who are interested to read.

I hope you have a good time with them.

Patricky Field 2007

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There was some space in time when everything felt kind of different to me, it was a couple of years, some more, some less than that... No matter, as long as those days were speaking about the everlasting, the eternal and unmoveable that is ralling round this finite world of ours.
Everything that has been started wll be finished one day, sooner or later.

There is a poem, The Lake, that says so:

"What? Can we not pin down at least a trace?
What? Lost entirely? Gone for evermore?
Time gave, and Time is minded to efface;
And shall not Time restore?

Dark gulfs, eternity, the past, the void!
You swallow down our days; and what's their fate?
Will you give back what you have once destroyed,
Our bliss, divinely great? "

Well, it means about us and our human condition and that is all.
No wonder, those days which I have mentioned were telling about other kind of force, that is not originated from any source, that is not begun, that has been and always been, that is and just that. If nothing fulfills the being... will be that the reason is because nothing is for good? If, by one hand, the being is sad and time cannot help but conducing everything behind, on the other hand when there is happiness, it is never a faithful company; it is conduced behind the same way.

So, what is the point? If your figure sets together the sun and all the fears don't matter anymore, all the joy was sorved like in a dream, when everything is nothing but memories...
No. What begins cannot bare the weight of ours. The hard meeting with the "just that" brings uncertainty, emptiness and a sensation of unsatisfaction that may grow out of control, up to the day when it is over - of course, as long as it was started one day, so it will have an end as everything - but maybe too much late. Maybe you are finished before your own ideals and wishes that are to be satisfied yet.

And, what about the thing that does not begins itself? What about the feeling that is yours in integrality, that is seen with the eyes that see and heard with the ears that hear? That exists. I'm sure that is the same for generations, for all the times, for all of us. That is unchangeable, that is. It is no "Just that", but "Just that is". No religion will relieve you, no passion, no job, no arts, no truth, as long as they are all temporal. We are just spending idle time while everything passes and we are streamming along the current of the life.

But there remains the question: What if it all is to be finished?

Even the most beautiful songs have their final key. But I have felt what is behind, for a brief there was what is not transient, it didn't started. It didn't finished in me. It just showed up what was asleep, like a seed under a shade tree and that truth has been always.



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