Author: A metaphysical entity (Page 3 of 38)

Weekly state: broke.

June 29, 2025 / A metaphysical entity

You got a minute?

This is not a threat. Although what follows after this question usually does not entail the best of news. While I chew on some thoughts I am once again pondering my favorite concept – time.

The Bretton-Woods system that truly is the gold standard, the currency that is the only constant. Hardly ever inflated. Don’t trust the capitalists and the propaganda of accumulating paper with numbers on it.

True currency is time. While I have the luxury of not participating in this system as a metaphysical observer, I nonetheless cannot escape the concept. I am not moving within time, I am still ruled by it. And these weeks, I am also paying.

All the good things in life only get better with time. Cheese gets older, deeper in flavour. People become mature, experienced and ideally wiser (if you are lucky). I guess this is the gift of reflection.

What would happen if we could skip the line, just like we do in the capitalist world? What if we could pay instantly to become moldy? To become mature? To be as ripe as a good cheddar, spitting knowledge left and right? A sad world, no ups and downs, tragedy and happiness, obliterated. Boring, cheap.

Romance and passion, blown to dust. No anticipation, no waiting for the resolution of a frustrating situation. Becoming friends with your suffering can be relieving, fulfilment of your wishes in the darkest hour, godly.

These weeks, I am paying. Not to skip the line, but to get that sweet experience, the resolution, perhaps even wisdom. I pay with time, I can feel it. What I am investing in, I don’t even know yet. But surely enough, I’ve been spending time, pondering, wondering how and why. It’s been a while.

So, got a minute for me?

Pen.

June 26, 2025 / A metaphysical entity

Many great people have been blessed by the beloved free-flowing nature of her ancestors. Always a servant, never to complain. In the shadow, most of time time. Present, when needed.

Peace treaties were signed, love letters from the great romantics were written and sent all over the globe to engrave them into the annals of humanity. Death and destruction followed after her ancestors were used, the servant also functions in the wrong hands. Such is life at high courts.

And yet, she longs for her own history, one that she can never tell about. Only to keep in her heart, the refillable chamber of liquid memories to be made. Pressure is immense but mankind has taken to digital solutions. Time has passed by her profession, her reason of being. Vanished.

She is beautiful. A perfect black gloss covers her, golden in the few places. To show her heritage, her lineage and the proud nature of her being. Not tacky, dignified and luxurious. Her finish is soft to touch, warm and heavy. She displays longevity in the face of accelerating development and change. All part are perfectly aligned, fitting to the last inch. Not a single wiggle, no room for mistakes. She is ready for history. A queen ready to meet her destiny.

And so I humbly take another sheet of paper, as heavy as I can afford, place it onto the writing pad. I look at the queen and feel her heaviness in my palm. I won’t make history today, no matter how hard I will try. Yet she serves, as so many of her lineage before. Humble, yet dignified.

„My dear friend, this letter…“

Weekly state: silly.

June 22, 2025 / A metaphysical entity

Is it the winds of change gently blowing in my face or someone farting in my general direction?

Naive I look up in the sky and expect answers and signs. Some people see things up there, I envy them. I have taken to believe in things I see. Idiotic?

I take things seriously that have no inherent importance and vice versa. That is to say, this weekly state is – and here I apologise to you my dear reader – of no importance. But seriously written by me.

Oh how it warms my heart to be seriously childish, sternly playful, concentrated on the silliness of life.

So often I try. To follow the instructions of the manual to living. Only to find out that a couple of screws are missing. And so life continues, wonky as a coffee table in the centre of some metropolis. Yet, people accept the wonky table, similar to me accepting that apparently everyone got a different manual.

By this point, you will have noticed that this weekly state follows no order, no bigger theme. It has no importance to world history, is that not a relief?

If you haven’t been silly this week, go on, start laughing. Giggle or snort, whatever tickles you internally. From feeling stupid because you force yourself to a genuine laughter. That is silliness and I am here for it. At least on this late Sunday.

Pick axe.

June 17, 2025 / A metaphysical entity

It’s cold, my breath burns and my heart is quenched.

The journey I started has been so long that I cannot even remember the first day of my endeavour. Stones, ice, stones, clouds. On my way up on this godforsaken mountain I encounter things that were trendy once. Colourful back then, now just disregarded and slowly turned into trash. Of purpose once, now just a reminder of what I am searching for.

It is windy, my ears are reddish-blue cauliflowers.

I ram my pick axe into the ice and it cracks. I can hold onto it, not for long. Mercilessly I have to move to prevent my fall. There’s no way but up. I dream of the days in which I was standing at the bottom. Drunk on melancholic reminiscence, I wonder whether starting this quest is even something I could have chosen. I can’t remember the reason. Did someone tell me to?

It rains, my beard is frozen to a solid mess of hair and ice.

I long for the glittering, shiny things. I am a slave to marketing. I want more and better, like everyone else. But different. Ideas in my head of things I have never really encountered, made to be something that I must have. I am the collector of presumptions and desires.

The sun shows itself, I turn towards it and my eyes burn.

I make my way up this Sisyphean hill of nothingness. My mind paints illusions of what awaits me on top. I am sure I am on the right mountain, the path everyone has trotted along. I must be right, right? Right? Only a couple more times that I slam my pick axe into the ice, just a bit more. I am driven by my illusions. Higher and higher, I suffer, sweetly.

The clouds open up, my muscles are sore but I see the top.

Everything I have ever wanted. In front of me, like the others. Alone with everyone I celebrate my achievements.

A sign marks the top.

“Welcome to Mount Average”

Weekly state: toxic.

June 15, 2025 / A metaphysical entity

Before my head disappears in the clouds I will blow some smoke for the illusion of disappearing.

I am waiting in my carton, amongst equals but somehow special. Lust has brought us here, desire will deliver us to our final destination. I am a product of nature, yet unhealthy. At some point, I will disappear completely (luckily?).

Yet here I am, in your hands. It is up to you to pursue this habit.

It makes no sense but oh the sensation is pleasant. There’s no reason, it’s pure nonsense. Yet somehow we meet again and again.

For whatever reason you have brought me here, in this very moment it does not matter. Perhaps it’s what’s supposed to happen. Perhaps it is the culture. Maybe desire? Sadness? Peer pressure?

We will not find out, you and me.

I might just be a cigarette, but is our encounter not emblematic for something larger? Am I just delusional, making myself feel special among the thousands beside me?

Will you go through with it?