Vom Regen in die Traufe, ohne Reißleine, steh ich in meiner Idee und die Fische verstummen um mich herum, eingeschlossen ohne gefangen zu sein, obwohl das Ufer nicht weit weg ist. Der Vogel wartet nicht auf dich, lern doch endlich fliegen, sagt Mutter. Türen schließen sich hinter mir, durch transparente Wände wandern Hände, während ich endlos wirkende Stufen erklimme und hoch über mir der blaue Himmel erscheint, der mit deinen Worten meine Gedanken auf Reisen schickt und rotes Bonbonpapier sich vom Wind treiben und fallen und fallen und treiben lässt, bis das Wasser zum Halse steht und nur noch die Fische im Angesicht der Realität fröhlich Saltos schlagen. Und er denkt immer noch, es gäbe eine Liste…
From the rain to the eaves, without a ripcord, I stand in my idea and the fish are silenced around me, trapped without being caught, even though the shore is not far away. The bird does not wait for you, learn to fly at last, mother says. Doors close behind me, hands wandering through transparent walls as I climb endless steps and high above me the blue sky appears sending my thoughts on the road with your words and red candy wrapper dripping and falling and drifting until the water is up to throat and only the fish in the face of reality happily do somersaults. And he still thinks there is a list… (translated by jf)
You know what’s the weirdest thing about human race? We know everything. From the star that died a few billion light years away to the way our lungs process oxygen. Everything, but ourselves.
I know though, some of you will claim, but I meditate everyday, read pro inspirational quotes, probably found zen too. But do you really KNOW who you are?
Let me tell you, you don’t. You THINK you do, just like you think you’d stick to that new year resolution, just like you think you it’s okay to not tell someone of your feelings, just like you think you’ll do it tomorrow. But darling there is no tomorrow.
This is all you have. Your reality is you. You are your reality. The youngest you’ve ever been, the oldest you’ll ever be. It’s today. And even if it looks like a slushy dirty mud filled battle field, this is your Wonderland. Descend into it. And the key to the hole? JUST DO IT.
The only way to escape this moment is to complete it. The only way to win a battle is to fight it. And the only way to really know yourself, is to never think who you are. Just find your reality and fall in love with it. Sometimes, you have to fall down a rabbit hole to get where you need to be.
When I was young I measured moments in the space between ceiling fan blades and thought about the moving world. Marveling that no moment was ever the same that though things seemed to repeat everything always changed. I still think of that sometimes while I watch them turn. – MFNT (Jordan Bakare)
Once it was the barracks
of an old and proud regiment
The parade ground rang
with the sound of soldiers marching
and shouting out of orders
the sentry kept watch
from his box by the gates.
The regiment is now disbanded
no longer the pride of the town
the parade ground rings
with the sound of tourists chatting
and children playing
the sentry box stands empty
forgotten in front of the gate
But wait! Is that an echo I hear
whispering across time
the sound of soldiers marching
and shouting out of orders
the changing of the guard
in his box by the gate.