"The cosmic reverie … is a phenomenon of solitude which has its roots in the soul of the dreamer.
Cosmic reveries separate us from project reveries. They situate us in a world and not in a society. The cosmic reverie possesses a sort of stability or tranquility. It helps us escape time. It is a state. Let us get to the bottom of its essence: it is a state of mind… Poetry supplies us with documents for a phenomenology of the soul. The entire soul is presented in the poetic universe of the poet."
- Gaston Bachelard
Friday, July 25, 2014
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Elevator
"Just let yourself fall already."
I was still afraid to open my eyes
The elevator door opened at 9:12am. I have no idea how long I've been in here, since my phone died and I have no other way to check the time.
The only company I have is the sound of my growling stomach.
And a song stuck in my head.
I have a shovel at least, to dig my subconscious.
And a big mirror.
Too bad the light's out.
Sitting in a lotus position, it's so soothing to just...
Allow my own emptiness to consume me...
My desire is a never ending spiral, vibrating from all the pain.
Crying out for help.
"Yes, how can I help you? Yeah I'd like to find the purpose of life. Would you like fries with that?"
Fuck it, while I'm at it, I might as well fall victim of my own illusions just to pass time.
And scream.
At the top of my lungs.
It's ridiculous. I'm trapped in this elevator, where, as a kid, I'd play with the buttons.
Now, they're just staring at me, almost laughing.
I'm stuck somewhere between the eighth and the ninth.
Eight is just God who decided to stand up.
Too bad he can't reach 9 so I can get off.
I guess that's my purpose.
To figure out how to get to 9.
Laughing hysterically, banging on the walls.
The echo fades away like a riff.
Each time.
I filled my life with echos, only because they sounded good, but in the end, they all faded away.
I look in the mirror. There's someone staring at me. It's hypnotic.
I forgot who I am.
It's absurd.
I think for the past three or four hours I've been yelling "what?!" every two minutes.
Each time I throw the question, I reel back more emptiness.
I wish I had a bed.
I couldn't sleep either way. It's been years since I've slept.
What if I painted something on the mirror?
I'm somewhere in my subconscious.
If I'd start paining, I'd do it in a trance state, then wake up to a finished painting of... myself.
Whose eyes are those?
Why bother spying on me? Can't you see I'm schizophrenic?
Hey. Look at me when I'm talking to you!
Looks like I scared him off.
Even the Devil is afraid of boredom.
There's a memo glued to the ceiling.
"All you need is love."
Suddenly, the elevator falls to zero.
Fuck. I was so close.
Well, it's always fun starting over.
I was still afraid to open my eyes
The elevator door opened at 9:12am. I have no idea how long I've been in here, since my phone died and I have no other way to check the time.
The only company I have is the sound of my growling stomach.
And a song stuck in my head.
I have a shovel at least, to dig my subconscious.
And a big mirror.
Too bad the light's out.
Sitting in a lotus position, it's so soothing to just...
Allow my own emptiness to consume me...
My desire is a never ending spiral, vibrating from all the pain.
Crying out for help.
"Yes, how can I help you? Yeah I'd like to find the purpose of life. Would you like fries with that?"
Fuck it, while I'm at it, I might as well fall victim of my own illusions just to pass time.
And scream.
At the top of my lungs.
It's ridiculous. I'm trapped in this elevator, where, as a kid, I'd play with the buttons.
Now, they're just staring at me, almost laughing.
I'm stuck somewhere between the eighth and the ninth.
Eight is just God who decided to stand up.
Too bad he can't reach 9 so I can get off.
I guess that's my purpose.
To figure out how to get to 9.
Laughing hysterically, banging on the walls.
The echo fades away like a riff.
Each time.
I filled my life with echos, only because they sounded good, but in the end, they all faded away.
I look in the mirror. There's someone staring at me. It's hypnotic.
I forgot who I am.
It's absurd.
I think for the past three or four hours I've been yelling "what?!" every two minutes.
Each time I throw the question, I reel back more emptiness.
I wish I had a bed.
I couldn't sleep either way. It's been years since I've slept.
What if I painted something on the mirror?
I'm somewhere in my subconscious.
If I'd start paining, I'd do it in a trance state, then wake up to a finished painting of... myself.
Whose eyes are those?
Why bother spying on me? Can't you see I'm schizophrenic?
Hey. Look at me when I'm talking to you!
Looks like I scared him off.
Even the Devil is afraid of boredom.
There's a memo glued to the ceiling.
"All you need is love."
Suddenly, the elevator falls to zero.
Fuck. I was so close.
Well, it's always fun starting over.
Monday, July 21, 2014
mixed emotions
stuck
in a cloud
with the
quiet pain
in which I
indulge
like a ruin.
above, a
rainbow
that I keep
trying to grab
and I keep
falling
in these
clouds
of clueless
ideas.
I look up
and see
two bright
stars
your eyes.
like fire,
they’re the
center
of an
eternal dance.
I see my
shadows
spinning
around them
an
unmistakable spark
in the
abyss.
falling
forever
one day
at a time.
one spark
one bright
spark
and I’ll be
gone.
below, two
bluebirds
uniting the
sky and the earth…
what a
dance!
if only
I would fall
already.
I don’t care
if you catch
me
I’m happy
in my
beautiful
misery.
so run
in any
direction
the light is
never far.
how could it
be
if you’re
it?
Time
Mourning the
loss of my old friend, time
I tick with
impatience on the clock named Earth
And see up
above a star named fate
Prophet and
sage, winking at me
Only far in
the eyes of ignorance
Falling
apart with each resurrection
As tears
flow from them, freeing their fire
Reflecting
more and more
On the clock
named Earth
As it slowly
turns
Towards its
final hour.
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