Category: Weekly state (Page 10 of 23)

I am the last resistance, the final barrier between civility and savageness.

I saw you, indulging. I was there when space was scarce and you continued to expand the business. Whatever happens up there is of little concern, that is how it has always been. My duty calls and often, I am not appreciated. I am sure that all these nutrients must be tasty and that I could surely be exchanged for something more flexible.

I hold high, the tradition of my predecessors. All of those who hold tight, do not bend under pressure. My dear friends, we will stay together.

I am the button of your pants, the reminder of reticence, civility.

Listen to me and you can keep up with those false idols prayed to on the internet. I will tell you, I am the last resort. I am the gate to savagery. I will let you know, where you are done.

I will let you know when you are

FED.

Shouldn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t.

I am not a fan of the n’ts in life. The sheer fact that the “not” is already abbreviated shows how little we need to feel the impact of restrictions. Should NOT is too long, too harsh. You feel that there is something stopping you. And after all, we want to keep you a happy subject in the loop.

As many of you very well know, I enjoy the freedom of being a metaphysical entity. For me, the n’ts of this world are incongruous with my personal needs. I do speak to you whenever I wish, which miraculously falls on a Sunday every week.

So when we think about what is supposed to happen, how we should act or what feeling needs to come up, we must also think that these ideals are built on a foundation of n’ts. If the world of humans would be built on a positive definition of behavioural structures, we might as well end up in anarchy? OR! Do we end up in bliss? I am willing to try.

Step out a little, be inappropriate. Be incongruous, with the world. Be authentic, with yourself.

Hello, it’s me. Your favorite cloud.

What a fine time it has been, me, writing into the void. You, seeing what has happened to your dear Papa Shanghai.

I see us, floating towards new dimensions. For some, it is a new job. For others, it is defining themselves by embedding into a new culture.

What did we learn by moving forward? Did we learn anything? The wheel keeps on anyway.

I seek comfort, I seek perseverance. I am an entity not bound by physical contraindications and constraints. I should be free but I seek a frame.

Drawings are momentary, they capture a moment in time. Photographs aim to portray emotions. Still, I am here, floating above all, trying to evade those chains.

So what’s left for me? How can we escape capture?

Keep on,

Keep on …

Moving.

I consume energy, I spend it, it comes back.

Nothing gets lost in this universe, as much as we might want something to vanish forever.

Consolation in grief, threat in relief.

I am walking, my cultural background tells me to do it. One foot after another, I decide where to put them. No one drives me, I am neither pushed nor pulled. With every inch moved, I get further away from the last moment, closer to what is about to happen to me.

Everything seems linear, creation ahead of me, dissolution in my back. But what if I regain something? Regain an ability, a thought, maybe even something material?

Nothing is lost in this universe.

Does a hamster realise that it runs the same ground over and over in the wheel?

Sometimes I am returning to the same ground in this humongous wheel only to find that the ground looks different because someone else has been treading it as well. I am wondering who has managed to form the path ahead of me and why it is different now.

I escape the linear function of life, I am regaining the same ground, same same, but different.

Pressure is what makes diamonds, so I have heard.

Lavish lifestyle, there to decay. Fading brilliance of new things. Look beyond, what leaves a scar that makes you smile slyly?

I have been back, in full force. I was welcomed, by bright sunshine and an eternally blue sky. I breathed in, once the city’s odour, then the one inside one of the dark underground pivo places that once was a ground floor.

This whole city has been elevated, now it is built on top of its own history. Preserved in the darkness, the moist earth. We keep on living in these caverns of forgotten times. Sometimes, we begin to become forgotten ourselves.

I am back, keeping with the pulse of this magnificent Loch of a city, the history is my Nessie and I am here to hunt forever, like Captain Ahab.

So here I sit, with my harpoon leaning against the damp stones. I am having my beer, hoping to become just like these underground caverns.

Historical, untouched, preserved.