Author: PS (Page 3 of 29)

I witness astronomical dusk and still the artificial light is winning.

Within twilight I operate, cloud as my pillow. I can go higher and lower, within these limits light is at my mercy. I can decide between evening and night, waking hours and sleep.

With the tremendous power over earths rotation I can become drunk on might. In the end, gravity is passing me by as a former oppressor. Golden hour is an eternity for me, as long as I can move my cloud.

At 18 degrees my power starts to fade. Nautical dusk has taken over and gold fades to blue which fades to black. Twilight is finite and my eyes loose their gleam.

Tormented by the realisation of my flagrant fatuousness, I chase the last rays of red and orange. I aim to go higher but gravity laughs at me. I have encountered reality.

Astronomical and nautical, I am dusk.

Does a void contain anything? Why do I stare at it? If I am floating forever in eternity on this cloud, am I not void as well?

A road has two lanes and I’ll probably use both.

If the road is majestic, you hardly look into the rear view mirror. So how would you know which way to drive? I have been dreaming about being able to see both ways but the amount of information is too much.

So there I go again, driving forward in reverse gear, trying to make it work. At least it will be a beautiful ride. Wanna get in?

Yes, I know. Dragged into a filthy alley and beat up by slang until it didn’t resemble anything it was before. But how beautiful is it that light becomes lit? Something vanishes through the fire, it is being sacrificed for flame. Just like the “g” and the “h”. May their service not be forgotten.

Sometimes I feel like I am losing my g and h as well. How bright the flame burns? I can never say, it’s lit under my butt. I feel the heat and surely enough I move but how much their sacrifice has given to the flame I hardly ever know.

Light can illuminate, a lit candle shines into the darkness. Something will pay for the light, mostly the wax. A torch burns wood, a flashlight batteries. Humans burn as well, calories. How bright will they shine?

I guess it depends on you.

I jump from one warm underground place to another, escaping the crisp cold winter air in between.

I indulge, slurping fermented juices that make me merry and talking about life. Hardly looking around, I try to slow down but I am hasty. A crawl of some kind this was supposed to be, in the end it was a run. Absence makes the hard grow fonder but what if there is just hours to rest from it?

Carpe diem, people have put on the walls as stickers. I am trying, but it remains hard. I have previously struggled with the concepts of past and future, wondering where this magical place of inbetweenness is. I haven’t found it yet.

So I continue to haste, jolly nonetheless. Because running can be a way to slow down.