La lune

Moonlight is often more beautiful than sunlight.

Metal blue light that makes things look as cold and wet as water, makes things look mysterious, undiscovered, blue light that makes things look like they were full of secrets, sleeping blossoms in the blue light, sleeping birds in the blue light, shiny street lamps and cars passing by, speeding, because it is night time, and all is asleep, except a few, those few swimming in the beauty of the blue light of the night, staring at the face of the moon, looking for answers in her permanent silent expression, looking up at the stars, counting them and the lives they have lived and will live after this one.

Night time is when all calms down, when all is quiet, except your own mind, whispering in the silence and the blue light of the moon.
A black cat crosses your road, and you walk in the shadows of trees, invisible like the secrets of the night. You fade, you become water, flowing without even touching the ground, a still undiscovered mythical creature, a speck of dust, a star in the sky, melted in the foreverness of the rocky moon, of the calm breathing of sleep.
Echo's of your own thoughts, echo's of your own existence, of knowing anything at all, just echo's of you, echo's of your own whispers.
You touch the blue light of the night with your finger tips, you brush off the stars, kiss the moon good night. Her beautiful cold lips, her beautiful silent being, the way she is looking at you every night, breathing deeply dreaming about the lives she has already lived and the one's that she will.

19 : nonsense that might make sense

For so many years I've been blaming all the things and people around me for my unhappiness. I thought that if I am placed, in what I called a perfect environment for me, I would change and feel good. Growing up, I lied to myself that I am too different for others to understand me. I thought I was special, too unique to be understood by the society. Now maybe it is true to some point, but I know that's not the actual reason for me feeling unhappy.

I guess there's a certain depth in every one of us. Things we do not say out loud, our dreams and visions that we do not share with others, sometimes deny it from even ourselves. I always have wondered if some people are actually as dull as they seem. For a long time it seemed impossible, I was telling myself that each one of us has something interesting lurking inside, waiting to be discovered.  Now I think... some are actually as dull as they appear to be. On the other hand, they are dull to ME, they are dull because I am looking from my point of view, presuming of course, that I am not dull myself. Everything is relative.

Every concept, every truth, every perception in this world is just a point of view.

We are placed into a reality with a fixed set of standard moral rules. These follow us through out our lives, sort of predetermined story of each one of us, living in a so called modern society. We are born, in a world run by money and business, into a lot of cruelty and so many expectations. We are too often told what's right or wrong, we are given too little chances to choose for ourselves. It's like we are born and given this instruction book about how to live our lives right. Why do we love authorities so much? Why do we trust what we are told through media, politricks, why do we follow the crowd? Is it out of laziness or out of fear? Lack of wisdom? Pure dumbness? Uh.

At the end of the day though, most of us are similar. We're human, all of us. We are of course, individuals, unique, but, we are too, the same. There are certain things that unite us all. Certain things we cannot run away from or get rid off. I suppose, there's no conclusion to nothing, except knowing, that you're born alone, and you will die alone, what you do in between the two is your choice, so do something that feels right.

10

My heart is breathing loudly. I can hear it whisper '' wake up '' once in  a while. Everyday it whispers things to me, and if I calm my mind and just listen to the silence, I can hear the whisper, that desperate voice that says '' wake up now ''. I can see my heart, colored red, pumping my blood, in the calm silence of my body,  monotonous, constant beating, which is not permanent. Listen, it's like someone's knocking from inside of my chest. Can you hear it?
And the day when that knocking will stop, where will I go?

Weekend

3 different Jack Daniel's sauce bottles.
Beer and more beer, red sweet wine, white wine, rum.
Milk for breakfast, wine for lunch, beer and rum for dinner and the rest of the night.
Duck with fried potatoes and sweet chili sauce.
Beef with fried potatoes and vegetables.

This weekend I have eaten parts of 2 animals, and drank more than I have in 3 last weeks.

What's the outcome?

Eating meat
Drinking wine
Lips red
Teeth blue
Body and blood

Eating dinner, but we didn't say a prayer.
Going to sleep without getting a kiss.
Crying without making a sound, crying but you cannot see no tears. Invisible quiet crying. Because you're not a baby anymore. They gave you a name, and counted your years, they gave you your diagnosis. Checked you out. Rated you. All sorts of scales. You're now bunch of codes, numbers, percentages. You are a percentage. A crumble in the pie.

International Brainwash Day

“Television screens saturated with commercials promote the utopian and childish idea that all problems have fast, simple, and technological solutions. You must banish from your mind the naive but commonplace notion that commercials are about products. They are about products in the same sense that the story of Jonah is about the anatomy of whales. ” 
― Neil Postman

01

Life is a paradox. Starting with simple things, like, the busier you are, the more things you get done. The more free time you've got, the more time you waste...
Paradoxes all around. Sometimes the richest person is actually the poorest one, at the same time the poorest one can be the richest. The stupid one can suddenly switch places with the smart one. You can die any moment, but you pretend you're immortal. The prettiest person can turn damn ugly, after you get to know better. Same goes other way round. Someone who, from the first impression seemed ugly, starts to glow. You never appreciate good things when they're around, but when they're gone, you cannot live without them. We always realize too late. We repeat mistakes, without learning from them. We are self-conscious, and we do realize some things are going to have bad consequences, yet, we do not stop ourselves from doing those things. Ironically, we look for happiness, freedom, love outside ourselves, when really, we should look deep inside to find any of those. We hide behind looks, style, masks, we hide our vulnerability, deep down scared of dying, of ending up lonely, forgotten, not cared about. Ah.
 Headache.