I found this beautiful text (here) with resemblance to the sower and the four kinds of soils biblical parable, but with a new look upon it.
There are four kinds of heart in this world:
1. the live heart in a live man
2. the live heart in a dead man
3. the dead heart in a live man and
4. the dead heart in a dead man
The live heart in the live person is beating to other hearts regardless of their status, it embraces and enjoys every minute together and pulls them into a giant effort to the other world to which his heart truly beats.
The live heart of the dead man and the dead heart of the live man usually live in a state of mutual contempt, do not stand each other. Dead man with a live heart is the man who apparently is dead to the world, nothing moves him, but his heart beats to something, to something from another world, to the other world, to another reality. Because of this, a kind of caste pride catches him sometimes and then from the broken fence between himself and the world snickers envy, repugnance, anathema and sometimes excommunication. There is a hidden envy there, because the world has its charms too; all this until he comes into senses again, puts on his mortuary mask and his heart starts beating again for the other something.
The live man with the dead heart is the one whose heart is not touched by anything, although he moves in every direction, crosses the oceans, travels in reality and virtually, back and forth in time indefinitely, from the Big Bang until the end of the world, miming emotion in society – in his type of society, with his type of emotion. Because he’s very good at this, despite his dead heart, his face has a multitude of nuances. He doesn’t understand the dead man with the live heart, doesn’t understands his apparent apathy and no real affiliation, his mortuary mask inhibits him, it disconcerts him because he knows that behind it something beats for something else, which remembers him that inside he is actually on “mute”, although in fact is so noisy on the outside, so civilized and witty-funny-casual.
The dead heart in the dead man is the lucidity of the anesthetic patient who can’t talk and thus cannot communicate to the outside what he knows inside that is happening – his life like a dead open heart surgery. In his despair the dead man is trying to cling on things for the fear of disappearance, because his greatest fear is he will disappear into nothingness, as on a narrow spiral service stair that he believes will lead to ground, but actually on the ground floor the door is locked and the stairs go down to infinity into a dark infinity. He attracts things inside as one who is trying to rise from the ground and clings to one corner of tablecloth. Fails and all things are drawn towards him, on him, like a black hole. The most terrifying thing is that the dead heart in a dead man is very spacious – all things disappear in it forever. This dead heart in the dead man clings perfectly on the dead heart in the live man, on the live heart in the dead man, on the live heart in the live man; it clings on anything, like a perfect automated cardiograph. However this kind of heart no longer has access to what is inside. Everything falls down forever.
All this kinds of hearts are floating in an ocean of love in this world. This ocean of love can
embrace billions of billions of billions of hearts simultaneously and still find room for another billion and trillion of hearts. And it takes care of them with infinite grace.
Also in this ocean there is room for quadrillion of quadrillion of TB of pure emotion. And there is still room for at least same amount of pure information.
The problem is that, except the live heart in the live man, all other kinds of hearts are looking at life as an intercontinental cruise ship, with many decks – for each kind and class of hearts.
A cruise ship to satisfy 6 billion hearts, which, deep inside, alive or dead, don’t want to get wet and fear the ocean’s tides.
The idea is that all ships must sink in this ocean, that’s the sense of the journey. All ships and submarines must sink into the ocean of love, all means of transportation known and unknown must sink into the ocean of love – with all their passengers.
For when all the hearts will be sinking in this ocean – with will, not by chance – the ocean will make them as spacious as the ocean itself, simultaneously:
1. the live hearts in a live person
2. the live heart in a dead person
3. the dead heart in a live person
4. the dead heart in a dead person