Information tsunami

I read, think and speak for years by now. I have excess experience with friends, children, girls, boys, parents, people, students. Exchange of spoken words which become actions and start to move things altogether, all around. Vocal speech, body speech, brainstorming, mind melt, soul stutter; I observe and closely pay attention, I look at people and within them, so that I can understand them more clearly, eager to discover more.

Ideas which gain form, days and nights in an everlasting niche presented through people. And above all, plenty of voices to be heard, they come from the inside. A liquid process of spontaneity composing events with interesting dynamic, one that never leaves you bored.

It’s never quiet, at times I’m jealous of silence, for it can be kind as well, silence is also a form of communication. To be stranded on an ancient ruin somewhere faraway, surrounded only by endless view of a clear day and blue sea.

Actually, this is not my cup of tea, it wouldn’t work for me.

At times, I’m asking myself how it would look to have an empty head with not a single thought in it, origins of peaceful void.

From this imaginary tranquility of this restlessness I’ve come to enjoy so much I comfort myself with a smile on the face… I’m truly blessed to live this life.

The last of its kind

Right now, time didn’t matter at all, he was living outside of it, time was merely a consequence of himself. Traveling from one end of the galaxy to the other, through the depths of the chilling darkness, he was searching desperately for someone, eagerly trying to find anyone like him.

He found himself at the birth of a new eon, he could name it anyway he wanted, since he was the last of his kind. He became harbor of history. He desperately moved from one world to another through veils of mist of the past lost in a long forgotten memory, a mystery claimed by no one. The thought of all these ancient worlds was hidden in a tear somewhere, a melancholic drive for an ancient nostalgia. He saw that all these spaces which once belonged to his race remain just a void now. Humans are not what they once were, they’re no longer anywhere to be found. Never finding the wisdom within him to realize whether this is a good thing or a bad one… it could be both, symbiosis hidden somewhere in some elusive heavenly values.

This entropic barrier which is moving time in a single direction was useless for him, because in the essence of his humanity lied the chaos of mixing tenses. The future was entangled with the past, and his present felt like a resentment with a feeling of nostalgia left behind… a nostalgia for the oblivion and all the first beginnings.

The nature of his thought became wicked in madness, it was twisted from a distant cry, a faraway calling. This calling echoed a presence buried deep inside every strain of amino acids in his blood. In this state of awkward enslavement of oneself, he remembered a youth before he started to conquer his dreams. Then there were hopes, ideals, emotions, other people. Now, for the first time in his ancient life he was denied of everything, and this became a cause for spiritual exile which lied in the foundation of his curse. His hollow shell was void of humanity, filled on the edges only with hungry demons. His fear was woven in pain, and bred in sorrows and empty despair. His breath was heavy, old from exhaustion.

And he stood there across the abyss of all human fears and sufferings.

With a pride of a solitary sole, he found out that he was condemned to his marrow, awaken from nightmare just to enter another.

Uncharted sands

There it is, his everlasting desert. A desert with tales of ancient deeds aged in the wisdom of the sand, forgotten in the pain of the fresh desert wind.

He kept on moving forward, never looking back. He knew that back there nothing’s left, at least not for him. All the symbolic of this desolate realm capture his inner condition. His presence, even everything he had represented as far as he can tell, is hidden somewhere undreamed in this undiscovered landscape, on this forgotten world. He walked persistently on the sand, despite the friction, he felt as there was no ground beneath him in this region sculpted for no humans.

In this place he wasn’t accompanied by any color, there also weren’t neither darkness nor light left for his tired blue gaze. He kept on grabbing for the mystic which lied before him, curious by nature, and yet unthinkable and unknown to its very core, despite eons of knowledge gathered in his ancient life. He opened his senses to receive the desolation and the totality in silence surrounding him. This tranquility was a cherished gift to harbor, a serenity which had incorporated itself deep within the bones. From the core within there was glitter with an ember of a secret sun projecting itself outward, through the pores of the skin.

This unnatural emergence had brought back the freshness in his breath and the sparkle in his deep blue eyes. He felt alive again in this nonplace, right here, amongst the stars and all the the secret moons… in his kingdom made of sand, a kingdom of one.