Wednesday, 29 September 2010
I would like to stop.
In my thoughts, in my breath, in my mind. But not definitely or with purpose.
All the time going forward as if our steps would mean something. Once fixed life can't stand still so without too much choice of stagnation I catch up on the boat and float with the returning waves on the shore from where I think I have never left.
This continuance of our lives give the feeling that already this one is for ever or doesn't exist at all. In the tunes of the music, in the breaths of the forest, in the sparkles of the falling leaves, in the unsharpness of shape, in the passing gaze, below your foot if only the eyes could remain opened and mind fly to the clouds, that would be easier to live. Just start to stare and the world is creating itself by the beauty of your eyes. Perceptual coincidence of encountered lovers that try to grab their hands in the midst of nights.
The visits to other Universes, Galactics, painful dissapointment carved in the humans hearts that explodes because of smile and laugh. Someone died, someone was born. This pearl in the depths of the eye that shines now through the minds. Beauty and life in the purest form of desolation. Fragility that can't be sensed without any other words than silence. In silence of breathing forest, while tired you bend your knees down to the ground, ready to sleep forever in the softness of belief. Life that came to us so unexpectedly like the leaf that instead of falling down is turning hole in the air, cutting the structure of gravity into the molecules of excitement and ecstasy of unbelievability. Like a mirror reflecting our moments of being awaited. Our as we are reflecting the world that never has existed, that we all only imagined, that the trip has never been taken, that nothing was encountered, that all was lost from the moment of taking the first breath. And how to accept it, how to laugh loudly out the impossibility of being while disappearing in the moments of light, that still is given to us with a chance that maybe once we will stop and look. That we will gaze and in the emptiness we will start to see the things that are just there, in the middle of breathing forest, below our feet, ahead in the mystery of shades and bright lights of spiders strings, somewhere in the up flying leaf that no one ever could expect to happen. Somewhere there, where you have to enter in naked and dead. As at the moment when you have already done it once.
To live outside the time of consuming society.
For me it is impossible at the moment but I try not to think about the time and forget about the clock, get closer to non-time being where all the moments are equally important, where encounters live forever in the spheres of their meetings, when the the day is day and night is night for the life being, where love is always and hate just next to it in its own time space being life. Where your soul begins to live its own life and when you are ready and free to pass away. Or rather only your body like a piece of a tree need to burn to give a warmth or fire to make a fresh bread.
Name: jacek
Age: 27 in 5 days
Occupation: beauties perceptionist
Drugs: air, silence and eyes
And not so long time ago I became an Estonian mushroom picker. That was really funny, as well as my outfit :)
In my thoughts, in my breath, in my mind. But not definitely or with purpose.
All the time going forward as if our steps would mean something. Once fixed life can't stand still so without too much choice of stagnation I catch up on the boat and float with the returning waves on the shore from where I think I have never left.
This continuance of our lives give the feeling that already this one is for ever or doesn't exist at all. In the tunes of the music, in the breaths of the forest, in the sparkles of the falling leaves, in the unsharpness of shape, in the passing gaze, below your foot if only the eyes could remain opened and mind fly to the clouds, that would be easier to live. Just start to stare and the world is creating itself by the beauty of your eyes. Perceptual coincidence of encountered lovers that try to grab their hands in the midst of nights.
The visits to other Universes, Galactics, painful dissapointment carved in the humans hearts that explodes because of smile and laugh. Someone died, someone was born. This pearl in the depths of the eye that shines now through the minds. Beauty and life in the purest form of desolation. Fragility that can't be sensed without any other words than silence. In silence of breathing forest, while tired you bend your knees down to the ground, ready to sleep forever in the softness of belief. Life that came to us so unexpectedly like the leaf that instead of falling down is turning hole in the air, cutting the structure of gravity into the molecules of excitement and ecstasy of unbelievability. Like a mirror reflecting our moments of being awaited. Our as we are reflecting the world that never has existed, that we all only imagined, that the trip has never been taken, that nothing was encountered, that all was lost from the moment of taking the first breath. And how to accept it, how to laugh loudly out the impossibility of being while disappearing in the moments of light, that still is given to us with a chance that maybe once we will stop and look. That we will gaze and in the emptiness we will start to see the things that are just there, in the middle of breathing forest, below our feet, ahead in the mystery of shades and bright lights of spiders strings, somewhere in the up flying leaf that no one ever could expect to happen. Somewhere there, where you have to enter in naked and dead. As at the moment when you have already done it once.
To live outside the time of consuming society.
For me it is impossible at the moment but I try not to think about the time and forget about the clock, get closer to non-time being where all the moments are equally important, where encounters live forever in the spheres of their meetings, when the the day is day and night is night for the life being, where love is always and hate just next to it in its own time space being life. Where your soul begins to live its own life and when you are ready and free to pass away. Or rather only your body like a piece of a tree need to burn to give a warmth or fire to make a fresh bread.
Name: jacek
Age: 27 in 5 days
Occupation: beauties perceptionist
Drugs: air, silence and eyes
And not so long time ago I became an Estonian mushroom picker. That was really funny, as well as my outfit :)
Friday, 17 September 2010
once upon a time.....
Cycling with Lori after being picked up with Florek – which at the end remains the same and one but about this later.
Sometimes the things become invisible that you could see through them. Laying on the corner, in the center, just in front, are disappearing for a short while that you could come back. Come back or rather gather your soul back together and get ready for a mystery of road that is spreading ahead. But those things give you time, give you privacy and intimacy, give you the freedom to sing wild on the empty road that wakes up to day, reflecting its dreams in the surface of the fjord, give you the opportunity to see the mix of gray and dark yellow that create the hidden mushroom of the stairways to heaven. In between the wind that whisper the words of love that again are hidden in all that surround you but you still can't see it. With eyes wide opened all is dark and invisible. But when I am getting closer to Lori I catch it, get it, unfold it and laugh loudly because of another coincidence that shows that all is connected, that all is as if it doesn't, that I am leaving this time for sure. I collect my left invisible things that suddenly are just there, just in front of the same room where we have been playing drums with Florek few months earlier on my arrival day. I pick up my soul from the corners of deep blue wild fjord, hide her deeply in the corners where only I know how to pace and leave all behind. Lori whose nick name I suddenly changed yesterday is sleeping while I am leaving, followed by the same crew as at the day when I was driven from the airport by Florek.
Decorative neither with meaning, the circle of life is spinning as an old caravan wheel on the sands of a desert accompanied by the tunes of the motionless waves.
Sometimes the things become invisible that you could see through them. Laying on the corner, in the center, just in front, are disappearing for a short while that you could come back. Come back or rather gather your soul back together and get ready for a mystery of road that is spreading ahead. But those things give you time, give you privacy and intimacy, give you the freedom to sing wild on the empty road that wakes up to day, reflecting its dreams in the surface of the fjord, give you the opportunity to see the mix of gray and dark yellow that create the hidden mushroom of the stairways to heaven. In between the wind that whisper the words of love that again are hidden in all that surround you but you still can't see it. With eyes wide opened all is dark and invisible. But when I am getting closer to Lori I catch it, get it, unfold it and laugh loudly because of another coincidence that shows that all is connected, that all is as if it doesn't, that I am leaving this time for sure. I collect my left invisible things that suddenly are just there, just in front of the same room where we have been playing drums with Florek few months earlier on my arrival day. I pick up my soul from the corners of deep blue wild fjord, hide her deeply in the corners where only I know how to pace and leave all behind. Lori whose nick name I suddenly changed yesterday is sleeping while I am leaving, followed by the same crew as at the day when I was driven from the airport by Florek.
Decorative neither with meaning, the circle of life is spinning as an old caravan wheel on the sands of a desert accompanied by the tunes of the motionless waves.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)