Zurich.00:35am, on a rather usual and unusual monday night.
Just finished a movie I wish I hadnt wasted any time upon. Have opened my window to let the cold freezing breeze flow in, I am kind of sweating for an inexplicable reason.
Phantoms and sleeplessness, are so entwined, as lovers in a deathly embrace seconds before consummation.The question as ever remains is it the phantoms that chase me or am I doing the chasing. But today is not a day to delve into that.
I saw a lonely horse once, smoking a cigar sitting on a man of some years and riding away to glory. Then the other time is was a famished thin really thin rhino being chased on the streets by a man with one horn, right between the nose and the upper lip. I call these phantoms.
Often when I lay down on my back and wait for the sleep to come, I see or rather feel these phantoms. Sometimes they kind of disturb me, today is one such day.
What is it that my metaphysical sense communicates through these vivid pictographs. Is it that they carry a meaning in the womb or are they just another bastard child of an over conscious but hitherto restless mind.
I thought about the rhino phantom, well a rhino being chased by a horn, makes sense, cause I have often been a victim to my own inherent strenght. but why the famished rhino, I wonder. I guess it is about loosing your inner strenght and then finding a ravenous part of my ownself running for dear life by demons who scare it by visions of its own uniqueness.
Do i sound incoherent? Well somehow I have always found my lucidness of expression and ideas, disappearing when I indulge in a soliloquy.
Sleepless, I am often enough to call my self an irregular insomniac. Self indulgence and a few smokes and my eyes wouldn't just catch a blink into the early hours of the morning.
Ashes, well thats the one which binds the phantoms and the sleeplessness together, from the ashes of many dreams arise the phantoms of my sleepy conscience, the hurts and the unknown would have beens, conjure a strange cocktail of these logic less visions, making my mind a vaudeville slave and my heart the fluttering wings of a dying cricket.
I have no particular end in mind today, I just want to ramble on for a page, hoping that inbetween these senseless lines, somewhere I will stumble upon my enstranged lover and she will like old times,take me in her arms and carry me to the morning.
Alas, I dint find her,even in that shamelessly metaphorical and elaborate a sentence!
Continuing the incoherent flow of my thoughts, I want to talk about a nice little leaf I met today, I was as usual strolling alone on the streets, trampling the melting snow and deriving an unknown pleasure seeing something so white turning all muddy, when across it came.
It was quite the usual leaf, with a brown complexion and twisted back, being blown away by the picking wind. and then it came and just stuck it self on my chest, and said lonely stranger, why do you look so frustrated and morose, you think you got the short end of the stick? Well here I am flying uncontrolled, driven by this crazy wind who kicks me around so much, and still I am happy.
Well I said being blown around aint my idea of happiness, flying is good but being blown around, eh! I hate the thought of being driven by an all conquering hand, I only steer the courses I choose.
The leaf looked deep into my eyes and said well you know the small river under the bridge, it thinks it chooses its course too. The leave winked,just as the wind came and blew it over and so happily it soared on the coarse thrust of the sullen wind , while leaving it laughed and said, you know what you need, go down the square and fix yourself in the usual dark corner of that dingy bar and quietly down your crazy blues.
Just finished a movie I wish I hadnt wasted any time upon. Have opened my window to let the cold freezing breeze flow in, I am kind of sweating for an inexplicable reason.
Phantoms and sleeplessness, are so entwined, as lovers in a deathly embrace seconds before consummation.The question as ever remains is it the phantoms that chase me or am I doing the chasing. But today is not a day to delve into that.
I saw a lonely horse once, smoking a cigar sitting on a man of some years and riding away to glory. Then the other time is was a famished thin really thin rhino being chased on the streets by a man with one horn, right between the nose and the upper lip. I call these phantoms.
Often when I lay down on my back and wait for the sleep to come, I see or rather feel these phantoms. Sometimes they kind of disturb me, today is one such day.
What is it that my metaphysical sense communicates through these vivid pictographs. Is it that they carry a meaning in the womb or are they just another bastard child of an over conscious but hitherto restless mind.
I thought about the rhino phantom, well a rhino being chased by a horn, makes sense, cause I have often been a victim to my own inherent strenght. but why the famished rhino, I wonder. I guess it is about loosing your inner strenght and then finding a ravenous part of my ownself running for dear life by demons who scare it by visions of its own uniqueness.
Do i sound incoherent? Well somehow I have always found my lucidness of expression and ideas, disappearing when I indulge in a soliloquy.
Sleepless, I am often enough to call my self an irregular insomniac. Self indulgence and a few smokes and my eyes wouldn't just catch a blink into the early hours of the morning.
Ashes, well thats the one which binds the phantoms and the sleeplessness together, from the ashes of many dreams arise the phantoms of my sleepy conscience, the hurts and the unknown would have beens, conjure a strange cocktail of these logic less visions, making my mind a vaudeville slave and my heart the fluttering wings of a dying cricket.
I have no particular end in mind today, I just want to ramble on for a page, hoping that inbetween these senseless lines, somewhere I will stumble upon my enstranged lover and she will like old times,take me in her arms and carry me to the morning.
Alas, I dint find her,even in that shamelessly metaphorical and elaborate a sentence!
Continuing the incoherent flow of my thoughts, I want to talk about a nice little leaf I met today, I was as usual strolling alone on the streets, trampling the melting snow and deriving an unknown pleasure seeing something so white turning all muddy, when across it came.
It was quite the usual leaf, with a brown complexion and twisted back, being blown away by the picking wind. and then it came and just stuck it self on my chest, and said lonely stranger, why do you look so frustrated and morose, you think you got the short end of the stick? Well here I am flying uncontrolled, driven by this crazy wind who kicks me around so much, and still I am happy.
Well I said being blown around aint my idea of happiness, flying is good but being blown around, eh! I hate the thought of being driven by an all conquering hand, I only steer the courses I choose.
The leaf looked deep into my eyes and said well you know the small river under the bridge, it thinks it chooses its course too. The leave winked,just as the wind came and blew it over and so happily it soared on the coarse thrust of the sullen wind , while leaving it laughed and said, you know what you need, go down the square and fix yourself in the usual dark corner of that dingy bar and quietly down your crazy blues.
