2051 4.1.2022.

You have primed me to be a wolf. When I am a sheep. Perhaps it is your choice of protective mechanism. Which now has mine engaged as well. Hence flourishing ceases, all possible splendid moments die, and our endless wonders burn till they consequently turn into ashes. Such a pity.

Maybe we all are glues with stubborn layers over us. Layers on top of additional layers that embrace us with warmth, comfort, predictability, and constance. The layers that will save us from venturing those dark paths and crevices. The layers that will embrace us so firmly to suffocation. Suffocation of truth and dark beauty. That true beauty most don’t want to taste, including us.

It will repeat until the smothering is no longer tolerable. When will that be? Who knows.

0552 1.12.2020.

I drove miles to capture her instead of you. Through the desert valleys. She wasn't the most accommodating this month around. Closer I attempted at my close proximity to her, she seemed to move farther away. It was neither east or west. Nor was it north or south. She was right above my head, looking right at me, enticing me to come closer, but emitting the feeling that I must stay where I am. Sounds quite familiar, doesn't it?

1548 28.11.2020.

Started with one step. Onto the stairway, through the passages, alleys, muds, tunnels, streams, waves, debris, and rain. Developed fondness of the narrowness, wideness, darkness, moisture, impact, pain, solitary, and oneness. Yet still moving with no stagnation in the horizon. That eye piercing light merged with the line dividing up the gas and liquid. It’s always been the sanctuary. The birthplace of all the living things, which according to my dear F, are all communicating.

1728 23.11.2020.

Tethered. Restricted. Bound. Subconscious’ beautiful mechanism. Containment granting sanity. However, expansion forces itself upon this body at some point. It’s like Hilldale sliding slowly. One by one. That’s how it should be done. So I fully embrace and finally end up loving the chains. Chains of those who have mastered the push and pull.

1306.22.11.2020.

Up and down it goes, endless loop of Lucid Dream in my ears directly accessing my dreams through the subconscious, vividly flashing images of three souls dancing in unison to the beats of love, journey, surrealism, imagination, swirl city, orange horizon, primitive drums, ocean tide, and countless embodiment of wandering and moving consciousness. The utmost beauty has always been there. It's a birthright. Peel away and it is right there shining outwardly, right in the center.

0019.21.11.2020.

As the wind hit my face and I played alongside the line of death, I lived. It's the imbalance of being so far apart from that painfully natural part of life that makes souls tortured with stagnance, resulting in death from the deepest core. Thank you wind, thank you power lines, and thank you my dearest R.

2323.19.11.2020.

Rush. Temperature rose around the cheeks. Electricity streaming through the chin. Power lines on the horizon, the kind of power lines that send me to spaces that only certain airports can do. Clenched jaws. It’s this music. The triple beat. How do you still have this much power? It’s amusing.

A sacred moment indeed.

20.10.2020.

Distillation. Purification. Sterilization. Perfection.

Attention’s application to reflections. Each scene’s reflections grant me different amounts of duplication.

Evolution and the history allows me to see the echoes even if they may have left this body thus no longer existing.

Macro embodies everything, further emphasizing the oneness, the truth.

And that would be the theory, or the truth, that will be upon my chest.

1145. 24.2.2020.

I take a hundred journeys with you.

I take you through streets, alleys, waves, grass fields, deserts, hallways, stairways, beaches, and air passages.

Unconscious journeys have you. Conscious journeys have you. You are omnipresence.

Beats slow down and there you are in each and every strike, your shoulders move in the way you moved on that one warm June night…such in slow motion that it haunts me till this day.

1441. 16.8.2018.

Do you feel like we are floating around the surface? Barely touching the layers below... Initial pure intentions and magnetism having turned "basic".

It was the gesture. It was the energy. It was the sound of the vocal vibration. It was appreciation. It was pure. I don't know anymore what we're communicating.

But I bathe in the unknown and I continue to cherish the mystery. 

12.17. 24.7.2018.

We have been engaging in this dance for a while. Unknowns. Discoveries. Much of it being the former. What are you thinking. What am I thinking. Should I materialize the thoughts or should I conceal. You are saying the words but you are not saying the words. I am listening to the words but I am listening to my own words. I caught your light iris on that Saturday afternoon and despite the distance between us I could trace the subtlest movement of your eyes. The decreasing size of you - away from me, toward the water - had been burnt into every cell of my corporeal...and non-corporeal self. How had it all unfolded, I don't know. How did I let it unfold this far, I don't know. Surrendering is the only option I have right now. And I am no longer afraid. 

10.25. 5.2.2018.

Here crawls another one. Predictably so. Patience and pure observation without amygdala engagement makes it clean and painless. In fact, gratitude washes away the mood. The lack of hardship of realizing and executing the formula is almost ridiculous, yet I act almost as if suffering is enticing. Because I choose organic torment over sterilization. 

7.5. 25.1.2018.

When reality is peeled down to the core, clarity is so in my face it is painful. When matters are broken down to particles, realization hits me so hard my entire chest palpitates. When stories are deconstructed to both words of visibility and invisibility, intentions are bright as twelve o'clock desert sunlight. When everything's peeled down to the level of matrix, I see a glimpse of truth. That fleeting moment of authenticity, I cry out loud in mute every single time I almost catch it until it evaporates before my very eyes. So it goes, repetition of chosen blindness and self-convincing. It shall pass. It will all be fine.