Simply etherial

So then again, there never is a never was, but just some aftertaste of the things that should have been that instead of not being turn into something totally different, like cigarettes turn into smoke, visions turn into paintings, words turn into music, sun turns into rain, smiles turns into touch, touch turns into night, night turns into day.

It's all a never-ending turn of the revolving door, the celestial roulette wheel et tout les jeux sont deja faix! Just swing to the sound, moan, groan, turn, turn, turn, stop, look, listen, feel, touch, live, love. Life!

Definitely Life!!!

Logarithmic, arrhythmic, chronological illogical immutability of lips moving, letting the tongue gently slip over your teeth, producing music, innuendo and laughter. The sound of magic, the mystery of sound, the bland truth behind magic, the blinding magic behind truth, the deafening sound the world makes as it starts popping inside your head without ever exploding into anything else than a waterfall of colorful emotion that never ever turns into anything else than feeling .

I have no real concept of the idea of where everything that lead up to this point is going, but I'm so not in the mood for anything else than just feeling that I'm just gonna let go and float, inhale exhale, touch the material and think of the ethereal, because that's the way. The only way I think I ever somehow managed to make some sort of balanced sense of the everything, the anything, the nothing and the big something surrounding us all.

This ever anything in the somethingness of the is befuddles me in ways in which I start thinking might not be quite sane but then again sanity is such a fleeting thing it doesn't really matter if you're aiming for making sense of the big picture, whatever that might be. I have no clue so don't ask me for anything else than rhetorical questions whose answer are nothing more than malicious fabrication and insipid truth.

All I'm saying is I'm being blindsided by beauty step by step and I don't think I can stop smiling and I don't think I ever want to!

Sleep tight, have a cuddly night! Me I'm just bumming a smoke with the dragons inside my head, spouting fumes, unable to sleep, too hungry to stop, perpetually in a revolving movement.

Ignis

There's just nothing you can do, is it?! The more you run, the closer it gets, the more you stand the more it comes, the more you blow, the more it grows.

It's just dealing with it, that's what it is and I just can't stop be flabbergasted by these little miracles of life that you always stumble upon on your very own road to nowhere. Just gotta smile and let yourself feel again, however difficult it may be sometimes, but then again what's the point otherwise?

There would be absolutely no point, is what I'm saying, if you don't let yourself feel again, no point in in it whatsoever. The fires are burning again, the flames are starting to give warmth, everything is dancing in the shadows but you're turned your back to the shadows.

Just light, light in your eyes, smoke maybe gets in there too but that is ridiculously inevitable and of no importance to the fact of fire.

Funny thing is, this time around I really don't want to see the world burn, not anymore. I just want to catch warmth by the fire, look deep inside the cinders and let myself dance like the flames, sway with warmth, relish in light. And burn, burn, burn...

Free Form

Click! You just get it and go, taking what you can, leaving what you can't take, looking for what you need, wandering. No map, no compass just the gut acting like your very own natural state of the art, sun-powered, organic, bio-degradable, high-tech, bio-engineered global positioning system.

Close your eyes, think of something, however stupid or foolish or imaginative or full of desire, and just go do it.

The more I see the more I know there simply are no rules you can't unwrite or re-interpret if you get rid of semantics and just choose to follow your gut. Don't need that? Don't get it! Don't want that?! Don't go for it! Don't!? Don't! Or do?!

Me, I have absolutely no clue - I can only think on an empty stomach, and I've found that when you're really finding yourself going a mile a minute, all you have to do is let digestion do its thing.

So I'm going about, wandering and using my gut as a divining rod and what I can say I have discovered to be true, for me anyways, is the fact that your deepest wishes and desires will somehow always be fulfilled even if you have to go through the gauntlet of universal humor. That in itself is inescapable, part of the whole trip and somehow mandatory.

Therefore, leave all this clusterfuckedness behind you, it's not worth it really.

Just put one foot in front of the other, smile, follow your gut and be on your guard. Oh! And remember to relax once in a while, you won't get the joke otherwise.

Pointilism

The point, the point is to just go with it. Like when you're floating through the air and all the controls have been shot straight to hell.

What I'm sayin' is - you just gotta let yourself feel everything moving around you, bouncing off your skin, just... just glide man. In the end, this is what it's all about.

No need, no need for brakes anymore, especially when everything is flowing uncontrollably and you're part of it all, just not giving a damn, just going with it, whatever it is , to the end of it all, just some slow cadenced glide through the windfall of existence, or something, I forgot.

Right this moment, just now, before and not after, during, there is only one word that can encompass it all - free-fall. Inhale, exhale, glide!

Yeaaaaahhhhh!

Just listen, if you can, as I tug on my cigarette as if I'm sipping wine, hanging on the vine, laughing instead of wining, just mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... living!

You gotta love it, you gotta live it, you gotta be it, all I'm sayin' is you just gotta...

Gotta glide cause we're all falling and there are no safety nets, just safe landing spots.

Prick me because I think I may still be conscious and that is of no interest to me now. I'm just going for aerodynamics right now and there's nothing gonna stop me now.

Just fly and be happy, the wind is warm, life is warmth, being is air, everything is nothing and the point is there is no point.

Just because... just be, just smile, just live and be sure tomorrow the sun will rise again, water will still be wet and me and you, whoever you are, we'll still be alive and ready for take-off!

Fly!

Serendipity

Floating, it happens when you've forgotten how the shore looks like and you're too tired to remember you're in need of rest. Bobbing about, up and down, buoyancy like in the old days when up was up and down was down, like a little baby's toy, teeter-tottering about on one's way towards being. Swaying uncontrollably between order and chaos.

Well, this morning I can truly say I have found balance and meaning in the magic circumstance that unveils our beings to the subconscious conundrums from which the fabric of reality is spun.

Laugh all you will, or giggle if you shall for I shall just smile and look deep into your eyes where you always find one of two things - open doors or hidden ciphers...

Be it as it may, this tarotic alchemy, this chaotic order is for me the purest form of humor, jest and ironically divine intervention.

Excuse my stupidity, doused sensibly with an air of naivete, ruffled by nausea and ageing spleen, circumvented by experience, exposed by conjecture, unraveled by phantasmagorical supposition and contained by my, my very own - feeble morphology of syntax. And incredible lightness of being.

In all this I only see the natural of what is, as supposed, or opposed to what should be, what begins to be but never is, what one wants, and definetly what one is in need of.

So you toss, or you turn or you move, you walk about and you look, you smile and you nod leaving it all behind, not looking back, not looking back in anger but in unmovable understanding, in always unfathomable love. Floating through life itself, flambouyantly bobbing throughout the whole liquid mess of feelings, opinions and half-assed philosophies.

We always are what we do, all judgement aside, cowards or heroes, thieves or beggars, saints and demons, all human, all bound by the inescapable rules of ruthless attraction. Captive in this beautiful mess of an ocean we call life.

Compassless and adrift, this is our shining epitaph that will be forever ingrained in the forgetfulness of those who will never, ever, not even at the very end, remember us with anything but the deepest form of affection - regret.

This message in a bottle goes out to all those sleepless nights, all those unfathomable thoughts, to all those unspoken but felt and never uttered words which always drag the sunshine rays and the glittering but unmoveable moon into the darkness thereby turning it into light.

This is a hypnotic and phantasmagorical mood, my very own Dream Time, when words cease to exist and sounds start vibrating all over your insides creating visions of IS-ness.

Floating is IS-ness and I know this because even now when I blink I feel I will see faces and eyes as close my own, like a kaleidoscope of pure Vision.

Worry not, I am just resting, stretching about, rising and falling with the waves, too far from shore to be caught by the tide, riding the currents, beginning to understand, remembering to forget, living, breathing, smiling, loving, caring, protecting, assuming, procrastinating, joking, mocking, kissing, jinksing, wishing, feeling, losing, winning, working, writing but first and foremost accepting.

Peace out, Serendipity! You are the stuff that reality is made of, we are just the dreams that stuff turns into! Sleep well, take care, love well, feel like you're supposed to 'cause I'm churning water again and my far seeing eyes can only see the continent on the horizon, an infinty away, but I'm headed for infinity!

Just a little red

Thinking. It's good for the organism but it does things to the soul. Mincing and churning and I never thought ideas could bite. Or have teeth. Or a soul. But then again I never thought about thinking that and now that I am somehow in this position, of cognitivity or conectivity or whatever, I have to say it ain't half bad.

I gots me my see-through glasses on. Yet again. It's like I'm 15 all over again. And I'm having the blues all the fuck over again... Hey!

I even got a room with a view. So it ain't half bad.

Fandango

So there it is. Bonkers bat-shit insane madness. Yet again. Phantasmagoria as I walk, delirium as I sleep, inherent abnormality of my waking life. Like... like what the fuck is going on man?!

Listen... I think I have again passed the point of no return. The world is burning and I have the best seat in the house. So let it burn. Let is burn fast, or let it burn slow, let it flicker and die, let it come back strong like lightning - there, here, now, gone... Just, just stopped caring I guess. And the road winds and turns and moans through the landscape and through the forests and the swamps, galloping in slow motion, like a snake slithering towards the mountains.

The natural ebbs and flows you'll never find any formula for, except if you know how to look. Do you know? Have you learned sight?! Have you opened your eyes? My eyes are open.

Just look at it burn! The flames are dancing. The flames are flickering like the supple legs of beautiful women. Flickering, flaming, burning...