Velvet skies and purple dreams. We all dream; even if we don’t remember, we all do. It’s our internal language, a language that precedes all languages, an ancient form of communication, the oldest miscommunication. It’s inherent, it’s physical, it’s visceral. It’s ours and it’s us. The purest form of an “I”. Yet, we let a trivial and empty thing called “practical life” get in the way of Nature’s monologue.
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Showing posts from 2017
Poison
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Poison is attractive. To me, at least. There’s an appeal in Darkness; for light is abundant. But everything should be a choice; because, at the end of the day, there’s nothing more attractive than Freedom; and that’s when Darkness ceases to be appealing and poison becomes a prison; a perpetual state of toxicity and waste. Very apocalyptic and ugly. The bad kind of apocalyptic and ugly, the one we should stay far away from in order to maintain our Freedom, our own State of Mind. In order to maintain Ourselves. Bask in the Darkness, but, don’t drown in it. Photo by me.
What is wrong with you? A Study (a very short study)
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What is wrong with you? He said He looked her over. She was wearing her best outfit yet; new pumpkin coloured coat, the new black skinny that made her look taller, new brown quirky ankle boots and a band t-shirt: The Droogs (she made up the band, created the logo and printed on the tee). It's the best because it's the newest. what do you mean what is wrong with me?! It's the same old song. You're lost. Yes! Again! Alright, let's retrace your steps. The earliest memory I have is of the abandoned green kiosk- Yellow. It's green today! Okay. So I was standing in front of the green kiosk holding my favourite bottle of nothing when I heard a low moan… The usual bed bug? Yes. Poor soul. Maybe we should get her a Doctor. Bed bug doctors are extinct. Oh. And so I turned around and headed towards her… fancy an ice cream cone? Sure, but we'll regret this later, it's very cold! She smiled. I asked her what is wrong? She said she’s been broken a...
When I Knew
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When I knew how much I could know yet how little; I stopped wanting to know; how could you attain infinite knowledge when you're just a finite being? How could you handle living with the need of drying oceans and only succeed at drinking half a puny lake? When I knew how little I could ever know; my heart cried and my soul dried its tears; for the suffering is ever in the interest of my soul