05 April 2014


The sun shines bright and the streets are saturated to the max. Walking feels eerie and wrong - one ought to fly like a bird above the rooftops, and fly far. Bodily matters aside, I am here to enlighten myself.

Time is tied to concretes in the form of corrosion. The intangibles manage time as if it was fun. I walk between the two, trying to find balance amidst the imminent bodily destruction and the narrative constructs of my mind. Lies, mostly. Truth lies soft and sound in manipulating sounds. The inscape is a landscape only when immersed in music.

Thoughts color most of the steps I take on the light glutted cobbled stones. No matter how much I walk, I can't seem to get out of my mind. I clear the true throat within and sing,

Never ever mind
       Spinning stars inside
       Turn everything white

Never one's mind
       Clean sheet hype
       A roundabout fight

Lose that fucking mind 
         Time's just about ripe
         To take an ethereal flight

The song sung clears the cloud of thoughts like some say mantras do, and I am off my body. No need to walk the streets on the peripheries of time no more. Floating free, the lack of time distorts space into pure being.
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