Aug 30, 2013

Flowing dream

Listening 20 times to same song in a trance like state and singing to release emotions,

Thoughts’ turmoil and feelings troubling my mind,

Sometimes all I need is a muse, but this feels like an aborted heartbreak, a liquid breach in my soul, flowing down the lagoon, clear, and saline like the Baltic Sea water. I can’t stop looking into the light playing over the moving surface, back and forth just like my thoughts, should I or not? These visions of my life look so real and so illusionary at the same time that I can’t stop doubting that truth could ever exist. Even my own image is ebbing and flooding, my unstable self is lost somewhere in translation between what was and what is real.

When almost everyone is gulping happily a vision of the future that has been designed by some external media, I frown in disgust and stop looking. I may keep my eyes open and see, yet my awareness is directed towards my taste. Do I like this or that? Do I prefer these or those? Where do I want to be? Who do I really want to hug? What is it that I really would like to do if I were totally free?
No I don’t really question myself rather I visualise what feels good, nice and pleasurable. I overindulge in my fantasized hedonist inner paradise. The more I daydreamed, the more I could see how it would look like. And from these first images my imagination built scenarios which would get modified with acquired experience and painful mistakes. I don’t question myself but I adjust the parameters of the dream world.


Aug 17, 2013

The harmonious web

I feel secure. There is a safety net all around me when I close my eyes. Suddenly I hold them open yet the panoramic scenery is unfolding without robbing my inner vision. From this third eye I visualise a multi-dimensional matrix of connexions all around me while wild awake. It looks like a spider web. Any thread is sticky and incidentally unbreakable. I can fall a long way without fear. A corner of my mind intuitively infers the protective knots from a dumbing massive influx of information. Somewhere knots tie dozens of thread together, other places are simple crossroads. Most threads are so thin that I barely notice them, bar their glimmer, although it appears thicker randomly anywhere. Is the flow disrupted?  

Dreams about flying and nightmares about free falling are over. Each step in life evolves along selected uneven mats of threads and they can be jumped to and from. This does not require flight nor fall. If any step is neither right nor wrong then an obvious property of the web is amorality. Each thread is shiny and reflects a soothing strong white light usually. Any time vibration along threads may diffract light rays, so harmony distils selected scope of the rainbow towards the higher frequencies: blue, indigo, and violet.

Striking various chords in a chosen order plays the music of causation. The outcome of this deterministic song seems as hazardous as the success of a new tune. However music is exquisite when a virtuoso is crawling on the web of imagination. Intuitions appear as colourful sounds embedded in time and space. It is not only vain but futile to tear apart the web in order to locate where and when it happens. It happens within a frame that is ephemeral. Observing the frame is like catching time. I can count second but I would be a fool to pretend that this second is like last second. Otherwise time would stop to flow. Life is not, life has become.