Finally the mental constipation has lifted in a flood of beautiful words
It is the expectations, writing such a high quality prose is setting unreasonable standards; time and time again I have to remind myself why I am writing my thoughts down
It’s got nothing to do with showing someone something beautiful, it’s about showing sincere thoughts, showing the real you
It takes courage, of course. People might think that I am an idiot, or superficial, or whatever
And yes they might be right , but so what
I am living from this book I got for Christmas present, the courage to be disliked, I read that someone who’s lived a full life without making any enemies hasn’t lived their own life
and wouldn’t that be a shame, what if we live only once?
Hello there are stars in the sky, the sunset was pink.
The fly I brushed off my cheek. It couldn’t be bothered to fly away so it fell down dead and shrivelled on the desktop; presumably, it had a passive death wish.
And it’s almost always dark. Before the snow falls to reflect it, the wet brown grass seem to be sucking all the daylight in.
But it’s frost, like the powdered sugar on a princess cake. It’s thawing in the sunlight, but where the shadows are, it’s still white.
Isn’t that something? A powerful omen in these trying times, with flies falling down dead or stuck dead on the ceiling, that the shadows are brighter than their surroundings!
Essentially, the flies will become dirt in a final state of metamorphosis, as we all do, I guess.
As we all do.
Isn’t this life awesome (in the terrible sense of the word)? And still I feel tired exhausted, it’s no problem at all, relating to these dried up shrivelled flies
First time I watched Gilmore Girls, I identified with Rory. Being young, doing things for the first time, Over the subsequent rewatches, over the years, I’ve identified instead with Lorelei, gradually of course!
And now, twenty six years later, I’m starting to feel more and more like Emily.
There is a powerful image in the shape of: maimed dove feet in Paris, due to the hostility infrastructure towards birds, so that people below won’t get shat on! It’s the same faceless evil as these benches made unable to sleep on, to ward poor people off.
And the thing with doves, is that they carry the message of, and are the symbols of peace!
I know that is no coincidence, having experienced this first-hand
In Gamla Stan, I was having an argument with my wife. I’m sure I was being an ass.
Before the situation could escalate, I was shat on the head by a dove however, and the argument was brought to an abrupt stop.
He was getting old, feeling that he was losing his beauty, feeling spent, seeing no escape, just the endless grind, and for every day, the feeling that everything he so painstakingly built now is slowly slipping through his fingers, even though he’s holding onto it for dear life
And still, retirement is so very far away
And he asked me, do I notice too now people in general seem to be struggling these days
And I said, that truly I do, truly
But, I said, maybe it’s always been like this, only now we see ourselves reflected in these other people
I’m on the train, this is the start of my adventure, a journey into creativity and culture!
It’s making an extra stop now, a little bit longer than usual, outside of one of the most beautiful places in the world, but through the windows of the car, I see only a dark blue grey,
Because the lands are shrouded in the thickest fog,
So if someone, an elk?, ventures onto these train tracks, nobody will be able to stop the train from hitting it, and for the elk, the train — even with its headlights — will appear to be coming out of nowhere!
In this magical mist, the mind might wander; I could picture that I’m anywhere in the world, or other worlds or times,
But, I’m already where I want to be, the most beautiful place I know,
When I played golf or badminton, our table tennis, all of games I don’t enjoy, I really have this strong mental focus, visualising the perfect strike or whatever, you know?
Really seeing before me, But it doesn’t help.
Like when I was at a farm, as a child, looking at the goat grandmother sold to them, holding the fence, which I found out was electric, getting a shock.
Probing carefully, I discovered to my great disappointment, that I hadn’t gotten any superpowers. Nothing like that.
And finally, when stepping on the hornets’ nest, as a child, instead of being controlled by my formidable mind, they stung me.
I haven’t managed to break this wall between imagination and reality
Yet.
I inflated this tiny bubble of happiness, but for some reason, it burst.
I’d lighted a fire in the fireplace, and quietly I was having a beer in the kitchen, by the bar disk. Feeling at peace.
But then something happened? What went wrong ?
Is this just the ebb and flow of things? Did they moon cause this?
Are my humours out of balance?
I know, I think I know what it was
i thought of mother.
I usually start like this, with describing the weather,
Which when I woke up, I saw, I saw the brown leaves scattered on the ground, like so many frosted cornflakes
And with the rising sun, vapours rise too in a wet fog
And there are birds, the rowan trees’ are full of birds , the berries are red, the leaves red like rust
And I’ve been tired, lethargic almost
But my father came, and we had beers outside by the fire, and look, I like the fire, to gaze into the fire
I don’t want to think inside of my own head today, so I won’t
I found a plastic food container in the freezer. I’d been thinking to eat it today, the day when I’m alone. But, when I could finally pry open the lid to see what was inside, it was just something brown, like a puddle of frozen mud.
Isn’t that fascinating?
The little town next to where I live, it’s teeming with racists. Finally there was a sinkhole there, which I have good reason to believe, in reality is a not fully opened hole leading straight down to hell.
I think the whole town might sink into this hole one fine day, and I haven’t made up my mind yet, whether it is a good thing, or a bad.
I choose indifference this time.
Speaking of which,
Have you thought about the fact that neutrality almost always benefits the strong party in a conflict, the oppressor.