Saturday, July 24, 2010
Insomniac....
Sleep, where are you?? I am flying through the clouds, the thoughts in my head, my pink plastic airplane piercing each illusory one with every km/hr torque. I'm romanticizing, and theorizing, and there are a few tailspins here and there. Who's to care? That much I don't dare. If I were to wear it, I'd choose
186
But I can't know if that is my size, in the cosmic closet. I thought it was. I was trying on all the others and none can compare.
When do I get an answer??? I've been waiting so long. The waiting isn't a choice, it's the drum in my heart, and it speeds up at that sight. Blood gushing and swirling, live force abound. O2 has become some kind of dream. My dream was to eat the lights.
Do you ever sit down and eat, and think how strange the human body is? What if we could be fed by light, by the thought of love? A smile, an intention. Can't we? Aren't we?
I have travelled through cities, bogs and even it seems, spent some time in dungeons of my own dark thoughts, only to realize the walls that once seemed so heavy and mildew-cast were in fact, as poofy as cotton candy gone gray. Some tears, a breathe can melt them down and pull up the veil that banned the freedom.
I can see it, and do it, and with the expansion of the breathe sweep away the remains. Quantum physics, anyone? I would be a total believer, except for the absence of tears in the eyes of the scientists.
I haven't cried in so long. I have wanted to, some passionate release. I am so permeable now that I am contained, by the whim for transcience. Like the cheshire cat.
Working on my evaporating powers.. I can say I have met some with them.
Sleep, where are you?? I am flying through the clouds, the thoughts in my head, my pink plastic airplane piercing each illusory one with every km/hr torque. I'm romanticizing, and theorizing, and there are a few tailspins here and there. Who's to care? That much I don't dare. If I were to wear it, I'd choose
186
But I can't know if that is my size, in the cosmic closet. I thought it was. I was trying on all the others and none can compare.
When do I get an answer??? I've been waiting so long. The waiting isn't a choice, it's the drum in my heart, and it speeds up at that sight. Blood gushing and swirling, live force abound. O2 has become some kind of dream. My dream was to eat the lights.
Do you ever sit down and eat, and think how strange the human body is? What if we could be fed by light, by the thought of love? A smile, an intention. Can't we? Aren't we?
I have travelled through cities, bogs and even it seems, spent some time in dungeons of my own dark thoughts, only to realize the walls that once seemed so heavy and mildew-cast were in fact, as poofy as cotton candy gone gray. Some tears, a breathe can melt them down and pull up the veil that banned the freedom.
I can see it, and do it, and with the expansion of the breathe sweep away the remains. Quantum physics, anyone? I would be a total believer, except for the absence of tears in the eyes of the scientists.
I haven't cried in so long. I have wanted to, some passionate release. I am so permeable now that I am contained, by the whim for transcience. Like the cheshire cat.
Working on my evaporating powers.. I can say I have met some with them.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Princity prance
It's a Friday in Seoul. Going to an exhibition tonight, an arty range of hats on display in cheongdam. Should be a little like a madhatters tea party, with any luck.
Morning yoga is such a treat, at body and seoul, where i be every other weekday morn. Then do the freelance dance, where will it take me??
A creative urge is nagging me, in my left ear, a whispering. Unfortunately it gets caught in the wind tunnel in exit 54 on the left labyrinthe of my brain, and sometime the esoteric sandstorms of my etherical body pick it up and sweep it right away. But I do listen, for a minute..
Time to play! Well work and then play. It's better if you're confused and not sure which is which, from time to time. It can happen, so easily.
Fingers on the keys, pen in the hand, marking, checking - voices, concordance. Meaning and sound, figures abound through the wriggling lives in the inner city. Plug in and move. It's now ~
Morning yoga is such a treat, at body and seoul, where i be every other weekday morn. Then do the freelance dance, where will it take me??
A creative urge is nagging me, in my left ear, a whispering. Unfortunately it gets caught in the wind tunnel in exit 54 on the left labyrinthe of my brain, and sometime the esoteric sandstorms of my etherical body pick it up and sweep it right away. But I do listen, for a minute..
Time to play! Well work and then play. It's better if you're confused and not sure which is which, from time to time. It can happen, so easily.
Fingers on the keys, pen in the hand, marking, checking - voices, concordance. Meaning and sound, figures abound through the wriggling lives in the inner city. Plug in and move. It's now ~
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