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Daily, Writings

Intelligent scum


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What if
people a hundred years from now
will look back at us
in the” rich” world
and ask:
Why didn’t you stop this from happening?
There are no flowers any longer
We have no trees
The bees
no longer buzz around our elbows and knees
The sun is scorching our skin
water tastes like tin
How could you forget nature is a living thing?
Strangle it
and it shall die
Who always survives the harshest conditions?
Parasites
Virus
Multiresistant bacteria
Termites

Humans

We are intelligent scum
Let’s be intelligent life

Daily, Writings

As of this moment


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Staring out on the humble rain
watching summer disintegrate

Leaves are shapeshifting
eavesdropping

to the marching band of autumn
appearing in the distance

humans, animals and plants alike
prepare to cocoon for a winter’s fortnight

Daily, Writings

Peeling layers of thought


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I’ve been writing all day. I went to Haymarket, looked around in the beautiful milieu and had a coffee, or two actually, very important.
The act of going to a place to write, is special. You designate time to write. I don’t do that very often, but when I do, I cherish every second.
I mostly wrote “bullshit” today. I didn’t even attempt to start on a story, a couple of poems though. I mainly wrote down thoughts and observations of late to rinse my head from dying thoughts.
I believe that when one undergoes change, a mental change that is, the previous thought-patterns die. They’re replaced with the new knowledge, perspectives and deeper understandings one has acquired throughout days, weeks, months.
Change is peculiar because a human can change over night from an experience and sometimes, if nothing extraordinary happens, the change takes time.

All I know is that I have new thoughts. I see the world differently and it is exciting albeit a bit terrifying because I am shifting values. What used to be important does not feel as important any longer. As a result, my future might look different than I’ve been thinking it would.

I know I will be driven towards a cause rather than a goal. What that cause is, I am yet to figure out.

Writings

Fall. In. Love. Again. and. Again


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I fell in love three days ago when we sat in the bed of a friend, surrounded by friends, and we made jokes that no one else gets
This morning you walked into the bathroom as a bearded man
When you came out you had shed your beard
I on the other hand, shed nothing
I only layered up with love,
I fell,
for you
again

I’ve known that love, that overused word, becomes stronger over time
I feel it for friends every time I meet them
I fall in love with them
It’s the self-explanatory kind of love,
the one that tells me that whatever evil you, my friend, might do to me,
I’ll always love you

With you on the other hand
When I fall, over
and
over
stronger
and stronger

It’s not with certainty
It comes in shockwaves
As if you baffle me with your sheer existence,
and you’re standing there, open to my loving you
Who am I then to not be completely absorbed
To not take my chance on falling
in
love
again
When it’s the greatest experience of them all

The difference is that whatever evil you might do to me
I won’t always love you
I won’t forgive

Perhaps that’s the reason to why I let myself lean in into what is us
Because I know that it’s not for certain
So I take my chances with braveity
For it’s the only way I will know
that whatever pain might come my way because of you
at least I loved whole-heartedly, with every piece of me
and when one has done that
there are no regrets
no wrong-doings
nothing that could have been done differently

Daily, Writings

Little Miss Fuck-Up


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Yesterday I went out bowling and got drunk instead of studying. Today my wrist is hurting from the bowling balls, guess that’s the price you have to pay when you’re the winner 😉

I try to let go of control, an attempt to not live up to the “Little Miss Perfect” – ideal. I don’t do my chores as I should, I try to take life not so seriously because it usually leaves me in a position where I feel stressed out for no reason. I’m fighting the “have to’s and should do’s” with a more laidback me, but this results in me feeling out of control and a lack of self-esteem because “I can’t seem to do anything right nor good”. I know it’s good for me to let go, but the struggle to feel fine in letting go is perhaps more difficult than being in control.

It’s as if though I’m rummaging through my life e v e r y day, turning it inside out in an attempt to figure… well… something out. Is it possible to be a teenager twice? Because my mind cuts me no slack what so ever these days. It’s as if I’ve thought so hard for so long that it’s now wired to analyze everything that happens to cross my path.

Internal battles without a commander in chief are not fruitful at all. Perhaps I just have to woman-up and stop questioning myself so damn much and instead be a proud boss who knows it’s employee sometimes fails and that is o k e y. 

 

Writings

Fields of ancient flowers


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There are fields of ancient flowers
They wither but never die
They rise again
to build floors of colored gold
Imagine how much they have seen
The time that has gone by
From cavemen to wikings
dinosaurs to bears
If only they could whisper
in all of our two ears
All their learnings
throughout the years
Maybe we could learn
how to be carriers of gold

Without ever wither blood

Photos, stories, Writings

Nature, a Double-Edged Sword


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She lures you in, seduces you with brisk air and long-sought-after golden rays of sun. She sprinkles the streets in leaves which hold all spectrums of colors, she hypnotizes you. Making one believe that life is a walk in a magical park where nothing evil can happen.

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She shows off all her best sides, fooling you into believing that the sky is an ever-changing canvas which she paints, only for you.

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Now that she has your attention, she surprises you by showing another side of her, one that is seldom seen. The bittersweet combination of pastel clouds and teasing mirroring, which makes you want to jump into the ice-cold water. Along with colossal, uncanny bird’s nests hovering above ground. Gruesome and fair, all at once.

img_2748Dystopian clouds roll in over the sky and in over your mind. Leaving you with an eerie feeling of that perhaps the world is not as picturesque as it seemed. Could that be nature’s gift and curse? Its’ tendency to build castles in the air full of hopes, dreams and fantasies, only to, in the next moment, tear them apart, filling the air with reality.

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Reminding you of how nothing is ever constant, except from change.