Posts Tagged ‘randomness’

Of words and water

Posted: June 19, 2014 in Uncategorized
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Words surfed. I floated on its stream.
Words flowed, I rippled.

The words I carried rather carried me.
And we kept flowing… Pouring me out of myself.

Lighter, I became. Emptier, I drained.

From a waterfall, free falling
Into oceans of ink.

My words dripped, so did I.
Until it was all too heavy.

My words and I drowned.

 

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Sentiments are pathetic, really. I haven’t completely turned into a psychopath yet, thus I am still ought to at least acknowledge the feelings as they rise; as they exist and persist only to add to the irritation.
Through the following, I hereby acknowledge a flamboyant state of unexplained, and certainly unwanted,  nostalgia that surfaces as reminiscing involuntarily imposes…
Emptiness is no longer a valid state when reminiscing still purges memories into oneself. And how could one be so vacant when nostalgia compensates for the void within?
There’s a memory that never fades, that no matter how quick one heals and how perfect the wound seals, it remains so vibrant, so poignant; so significant that it soon mimics the presence of what’s been absent.

There was once a feeling; now crippled, if not dead. And every time your heart craves it, your mind slowly flourishes a memory, that revives the corpse of how it once felt; to be alive.  And it soothes the soul, because the intensity of what pours into one’s mind is so drastic that it dramatically flips everything upside down; turning the vacant full, and the absent present.
So close…

So close it becomes to how it was once like.
The beauty of a world once created now crumbled and collapsed. Its relics shrank into a memory, its realms bound by the premises of a mind that apparently failed to comprehend what it is like to forget.

And the more you push yourself to forget the more your mind squeezes fertile visions of the lagging past that overlaps its present. A blurred mind, an impaired heart; soon they both embrace the warmth of remembrance rather than the ache of fighting it.
And how could one not remember when what it was is nothing like what had ever been nor anything of what will ever be?

So unconditional it came to life, so peaceful it grew, so blind and reluctant it was mislead…
So innocently it withered away.
Missing you is a right I have ceased to attain.

I am where I was once scared to be, but it’s not as scary as the image I once coupled it to within the depth of my imagination. Far beyond gone, I’ve been.
But I owe it to every memory I behold within myself to remember.
To forget is yet only another sin only the ungrateful are to be accused of.
To forget is yet only another tag for insignificance I’ll unfairly label you with if only I happen to forget.

Airports, packing- too too much packing- storage, tiny little so called gifts ( my favorite part) … What’s there on the checklist? My iPhone stuffed with a good music supply, earphones, the Deutsch Donald-duck “tashen-buch” that I carry around but never really read, a couple more books… That’s pretty much everything I need.

Yes, I’m traveling back to my parents’ place today. It’s been a while since I’ve last spend a proper holiday with them; like the four of us together. No wait, the five of us. (I forgot to count our cat, Smoke! How very unthoughtful of me.)
Anyway, as I leave this continent for another, I’ll be having my valuable airport time feeling like Viktor Navorski from The Terminal. ( great movie by the way) So I’ve decided to spare a couple of hours stuffing my blog with posts I’ll be publishing soon. Good enough, right? At least I’ll make use of the very long queues I know I’ll have to stand in. I’m not very fond of waiting to be honest, not standing either and definitely not the noises around me at the moment.

Now, that’s my flight theyre calling for and I’ve still got a big Mac to finish. Sorry, they’ll have to wait.

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.

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!

Complexity reforms the borders of our logic. It’s what we’ve lost ourselves to. Too messy it became, persistent it remains. And we hide behind that wreck we created. Safely, sheltered and unexposed.

I don’t.

I share, sometimes share too much. I bring down these barriers of complexity as I speak, as I bring my feelings to life. In words, in songs, in paintings… Regardless, as long as they are clearly laid out. They’re pretty complex and entangled on their own, but unleashing them does lessen the confusion.

And I take the harder way to peek into who and what people really are. I am not interested in the faces they stick up to the world, I’m rather thrilled by what they are on the inside. By the complexity they seal yet with another thicker layer of complexity.

Because… I’d love you; first for your flaws before anything else. I dig into what’s rather more tangible about you to find acceptance. That’s how I manage to find the good in everybody, that’s how I’m never out of excuses to present for yourself before you even do, and when you fail to.

Because, I like to keep my world in harmony with everybody’s… With yours.
Because there’s so much goodness in you.

Naive? Too nice to the extend of stupidity? I don’t care as long as I know I’m not, as long as I can find goodness in people…

I can see through your complexity. Deep into something not so solid but rather pure and unstained. Reserved and preserved.

Behind your complexity.

Sometimes we choose not to understand because we know reasoning is not what we want, for it might mark our arguments false, might prove our logic mislead…. Might cease the one thing keeping our hearts beating- feelings.

Feelings. Vibrant as they are, Wild with passion, soothing with truth and honesty. Yet, unexplained they remain rather growing in confusion. The best of them lack reasoning for reasoning puts down their fire. Reasoning takes away the edge of beauty that adorns them.

Mind and heart collide in conflicts under the name of logic and sense. An equilibrium that can never be restored. Never really established in the first place to be restored then. So, sense, what is it? Who sets it’s margins? What is further and beyond? Is it what you have to abide by or what you rather choose to believe as righteous?
Sense doesn’t make sense For Who has the power to decide on weather or not one thing makes sense but yourself?

Am I even making any sense? And if I’m not, why should I even care?
I don’t know if I’m choosing not to understand or I really don’t understand. I’m not quite sure if it’s even about understanding, really.

All I know is that even if logic fails me, even if sense escapes all my arguments, I’ll still be in favor of what I feel within. Feelings are precious regardless of the reasoning behind them. If reasoning would take away what or how I feel then I don’t want any of it.

My heart is what makes sense.

Hold on to what you feel. Bring it to life, speak of it, express it; in words, in melodies… In all what you know and with all what you can.

Shame is when you let it die.
Shame is when you give up on them, because no reasoning would make a good excuse for that.