There are times when my consciousness escapes me, for a fleeting moment; then, opening up my eyes, I remember that I am indeed in this body, my face looks a certain way and I have a specific name I go by. This slip from nothingness to being reminded of my identity is one of the few recurring moments in life where I could believe that this waking life really is nothing but a dream. Whether it is within another dream or not, I cannot know.
∞“You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame. How could you rise anew if you have not first become ashes?”
— Friedrich Nietzsche (via 366quotes)
DANGER - KEEP OUT
All those years
I was afraid of getting burnt
until I realized
that I myself
am the fire.
“Duality, multiplicity and contradiction: all these are reconciled in the individual who has learned to be complete, and to embrace existence. What the lesser, Manichean mind considers opposites, the wise gaze recognizes as nuances; as gradations ripe with meaning and beauty.”
— personal aphorism
“A certain level of insanity is required in order to experience the finest things life has to offer.”
— personal aphorism
- P: You just sound so dignified. I love it.
- W: The way I speak, or my words?
- P: The way you speak and also your words: so confident, even in their vulnerability.
“If there is a soul, it is a mistake to believe that it is given to us fully created. It is created here, throughout a whole life. And living is nothing else but that long and painful bringing forth.”
— Albert Camus
luminessence
I don’t know.
I can’t know.
.
.
I don’t know
whether you craft your thoughts carefully
in the workspace of your mind
in the forests of your soul
or whether they spring from your being
like pressurized life
that can’t be contained;
but your words are crystallized droplets
of insight
and love
[so it would seem]
that illuminate my darkest recesses.
.
.
I don’t know
whether your ears are pricked up
your every follicle alive
all senses burning in anticipation
or whether conscience and its secret friends
visit you effortlessly and sweetly
bearing unexpected gifts;
but my words glow and shine
like energized particles
dying out
their luminous death
colliding into your life force-
dancing the dance of the spirits.
.
.
I don’t know.
I can’t know.
.
I’m a wolf by an orchard’s gate.
.
All I know is
I want to lap you up
like the danger you are
feeling the burn against my throat
and holding your sweet aftertaste.
.
I want to let your scent
fill up and numb my head
until the bread-crumb trail back home
has vanished in the morning mist.
.
.
I don’t know.
Couldn’t possibly know
what the next moment brings.
.
What I know
is all my shadows and hidden pain
would run towards you
to be quenched in your light
without a moment’s
.
—
.
hesitation.
∞
fire, once more
I wasn’t ready.
She didn’t ask.
.
I was settled in dark and dust
and yellow, musty pages
lovingly tracing
rough paper
with my finger(tip)s.
.
She simply barged in
drew the curtains wide open
and as the dust-stars shone against the sun
I could see her smile.
.
My mind was afraid
but my heart said “yes”
loudly and tentatively.
.
She opened a little music box
and its deep frequencies
coursed through my blood
and sweetly melted
my sanity.
∞