Blimps after blimps of awkwardly unexamined thoughts paying a visit in my conscious, my mind form is relentlessly out of shape, I m not thinking straight, like a curve of a mountain road my consciousness has been drifting across at a high pace.
Took a short walk, thin 7O’Sky air filled with oxygen overflown me, each steps almost counted, huge abstract lump on my chest noticed, I’m depressed, I need help?
But I do not, I need to help myself, get my life on track, do all the things that I’ve been suggesting myself, I thought.
Killed my ciggie, gently pressed 8 on my elevator, slowly climbed like an old jeep, door wide opened, went into my room, decided to meditate for 6 minutes, 6 is an unlucky number I thought but the outcome of the out breaths and in breaths got me settled, stretched abit, did abit of self made yoga, peacefulness I felt, attracted me to do more of this rather than overthinking on what could life become after all this wait.
Depression is in the past
I’m living in the present,
A lonely poet
Okay lets all imagine I was this spiritual lsd taking guru who takes shit tons of stamps, quite left with false, delusions,, about everything that I’ve heard of these 17 years I have lived on, like a new age hippie or whatever.
“Have you ever imagined that you’re a beam of light stranded across this diagonal prism, wilded out by the great speed as your mass declines into decimals, decimals into zeroes, science classes couldn’t define.
Travelling at the speed which might seem like an infinity.
Time dilation occurs as everything slows down, conscious of every matter in the quantum field you’re breathing in.
Time doesn’t comprehend itself in your realm, you’re the time itself, seconds feels like nano seconds, hours are not considered.
You’re the Big Bang, and the creation itself, you could see the whole universe unfolding quietly, as you witness destruction and creation in splits.
Never stuck, always at a velocity, nothing could stop you, you bounces off everything that comes your way till the very end
;Where everything collapses and you fall into this deep dark well, where you as light been consumed, filling up the dark spaces into this nothingness, endless VOID.”
WOW COOL, HOW DID I EVEN WRITE THAT, HOW?
“Somebody asked me: “What do you do? How do you write, create?” You don’t, I told them. You don’t try. That’s very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It’s like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like its looks, you make a pet out of it.”
– Charles Bukowski