Rejoice in this love with joy, like a child who does not grow up, who lives the days with care, with small and big gestures in love.
Above all love
A hidden inheritance
- of Francesco Arista and Antonella Molica
Argument
- → To get excited is to bring out of reason and heart what is good or bad for you and live it with me.
- → Their emotions, feelings, sorrows and joys start from the thoughts and the heart.
- → Your choices are not conscious, not dictated by heart or by reason, are dictated by the world that oppresses you, it deludes you, finally throws you away and destroys you.
- → The desire of me arises in every son from knowledge, thoughts, the heart where I have already placed it, it stands out and spreads itself, makes you desiring with all your strength to be mine, to want me, to stand by and to living with me until you can no longer stay without me.
- → My children are fought, struggling in the vanity of confusion, not living in intelligence, living in misery, wandering in places, thoughts that do not exist, that they can not recognize, because every day the world seduces, fascinates them, makes them weak and fragile.
- → Your whole life is busy, revolves around empty, non-existent things, nothingness, loses sight of existing things, such as my love for you, your love for me and the light of which you are in the presence.
- → The realized son finally accomplished everything he wanted, for which he lived to know me, can understand the parts of his life he thought empty, he fills that nonexistent vacuum, he is completely alive, true, full, shining and brilliant.
- → Now the man finds the welfare, the harmony which he has sought in his life, he feels really free, in peace, in justice, in love, as a loved child, he knows with certainty to be loved, does not think to be useless, he walks and realizes with me.
- → The world invades my son overwhelmingly, in anguish, it has no law, no rule of love, it uses means that overwhelm, it destroys every one of my sons until it plunges him into destruction, it uses my son, it takes possession of my son without delicacy, without gentleness, without love, it struggles to possess, to use my son with pain, with torment and with breathlessness.
Relative arguments