Archive for July, 2012

The sky is green, stuffed in fluffy clouds of orange. The sun is covered in a faint seal of magenta. The earth is purple, it’s grass is purple and the waters shimmering in a smooth flow of crimson red… The horizon shuffles in patterns of flickering amber, orchid and electric lavender… Silver linings, golden edges… reflect rays of elusive colours.

Another river flows. Blue from the bank, slipping into teal, drifting darker into it’s royal deep shades that gets eaten away by a bordering patterns of ruby. Flowing parallel to one another; adhering at an edge of pungent purple that splits them. And slides away, from ruby to crimson to shades of maroon…

Fields of alternating purple and lemon yellow splice the land. They twist and shiver under the faint rainbow colours of morning dew.

The sky is still green, patches that come in all intensities bound together into a huge emerald over my head. Clouds are still orange. An array of scattered peaches and pumpkins.

And here I stand, in the midst of my colour palette, enjoying my fine world of awkwardness that is only true  in my head. Scents of vanilla and cream alternate and merge into others of exotic berries…

Blue berries are red, red berries blue, and the black ones have turned white…
My world splashes colours I feel.

In my head… Everything comes to life.
In my palette… I come to life.


Take a moment… To think, to listen and to understand…

We choose to keep them, or run away from them. A part of us hides them peacefully within, yet another digs them up. Are we the secrets we keep? Another censored version of ourselves? How different is what we hide from what we choose to expose? And why are we even scattered into bits and pieces here, there and everywhere? Yet, if we put them together, are we even complete? Do we get to see the bigger picture of ourselves?

It hurts to keep them in, but it’s never any easier to let them out, is it?

Take a moment… To remember.

Maybe we are not the secrets we keep. Maybe we are rather the fear that seals and conceals them. Maybe neither.  Maybe both… The secret is the fear? Yet what is fear? A mistake? A memory? A fine mixture of both? Neither?

Take a moment… To forget.

Does it make it go away? Does your mind clear up? Does the secret come to light? Does it melt your fear down? No…?

Take a moment… To realize;

That the moment you thought you’ve lost it was the moment you realized what it really meant to you.
That the moment you actually spill your secrets is the moment you realize you’ve overcome your fear.

Yet do we ever do?

We’re not the secrets, nor the fear. We’re not the memory, nor the thought.

We are the moment that brings them all together.

We are the moment,

living on a mere supply of hope, craving the subtle sense of safety in every way possible.

There is a thought growing in my head. Wilder and wilder. I cannot tame, I cannot domesticate. I cannot suppress to fall within the meaningless margins of logic. There are feelings that bounce with every heart beat. Contradictory and controversial. I cannot tone down, I cannot keep inside for too long. I cannot  incorporate into the barracks of sense. There is music, playing at the back of my head. Shuffling, with the shuffling of my thoughts and feelings. I cannot pause, I cannot mute. I can only keep it playing, louder and louder…

I think, therefore I am. I feel, therefore I exist.

What are we without the complexity our thoughts impose? What are we without the turmoil of emotions and unexplained feelings we behold? Both are interlinked, our thoughts and feelings. Both collide. Both bounce in ourselves making our existence worth living.

Every thought counts. No matter how trivial, no matter how abstract and incoherent it might be. It counts. And it makes sense it doesn’t make sense! I train my mind to make use of the world revolving around me, to take everything into consideration. Not recklessly shoving them into a useless chain of over-thinking, but rather stalk them into productive thoughts; into creativity.

The more I involve myself with the life presenting itself before me, the more attached I become. Not to “Life as a solid term” but to the  people, to things, and to abstracts… To the bonds… The more I establish the edges of my emotions, the more everything I come across triggers a feeling in me. Sometimes I can pinpoint the surge in me, sometimes I can’t. And I don’t care, because I know as long as my heart pumps these hieroglyphs of feelings into me, I know I am alive.

No one has the right to blame me for something, anything, I felt. My feelings are sacred. Precious pulses of existence. No one has the right to cease my thinking; not one thought!  They are the only sense I behold.

Cherish your thoughts and feelings. They are what is keeping you alive.
Sing a melody, and let them be. Sing a melody, and let yourself be.

My life swings away, with feelings, thoughts and music.

Smoke acting all tough. So much for her look!

I’ll walk down the streets. I’ll run, jump, sing and laugh. Yes, I’ll run into the water sprinklers, feel their droplets splashing my body with life, I’ll jump into the mud… I’ll sing, even though I might not know the lyrics and I’ll laugh at the weirdest things I stumble upon, at the tiniest things that cross my way… I’ll smile at stray cats, people; the old, the big, the young, the little… I’ll smile, at birds, the ugly crows, at the German Shepherds running away from their owners and at their owners themselves!

I’ll fall into the freshly cut grass, or into the sand… I’ll take my shoes off, leave foot prints, anywhere, everywhere. I’ll take my shoes off, and let them feel the cobblestone streets. Music. Louder and louder, I’ll sing along. I’ll cut papers into tiny pieces and  fly them into the wind; my little flock. I’ll make paper boats and let them sail in the river. I’ll blow balloons and tie them to my bike then ask a stranger to teach me how to ride!

I’ll look at the sky, draw shapes from clouds. I’ll run to the roof top, as high as it could get, and watch the earth spin beneath me. Night will crawl, and I will crawl into my bed. I’ll snuggle my teddy bear, kiss it good night and hide under the sheets. I’ll listen to the wind whistle, and I’ll whistle along. I’ll whistle myself to sleep…


I’m not a child. I’m not immature and reckless. I might be weird, but I’m not inconsiderate and dumb. I might be crazy. In fact, I AM crazy, but I do have a sane edge to my insanity. I am wild, yet peacefully.

Every now and then I like to bring the child in me to life.
Every now and then, I like to remind myself I’m alive.

Let your energy create a positive aura and escape into the world.
Remember, You’re alive. So act like you are!

Süße Mäuse

Posted: July 6, 2012 in Germany, Randoms, Travel, Weirdness

Heidelberg, Deutschland

For some reason, I find them cute. Like really cute! haha


Posted: July 5, 2012 in communication, complexity, Emotions, Randoms, Weirdness
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The absence of one thing is what contributes to the presence of another. Or rather what pushes us to notice what has always been present. Absence, is what gives our world its presence. In the absence of light, we fall into darkness. In the absence of love, we slip into hatred. In the absence of mind, we’re dull, we’re lost…

In the absence of fear, we’re strong yet in the absence of strength we’re fragile. Suspicion is the absence of trust.In the absence of life, we’re dead. But in the absence of death, are we even alive?

We live in absentia.

We’re absent, but present in the minds and hearts of others. And sometimes, our presence makes no difference from our absence.

We live in absentia. But do we understand? The absence of confusion is understanding, yet the more we understand the more confused we become. So what is the absence of absence? More absence? A misguided presence? Or a state of in-between?

And the absence of sense, is this.