Category: Weekly state (Page 4 of 23)

Recently I watched the spectacle of multiple drunken bees and a flower. High on nectar they danced and stupidly smiled at the beautiful Fatah Morgana. Seemingly reachable, forever untouchable.

I am a bug on a leaf and I watch. I don’t care much for pollen or any other hallucinogenic substances. Sometimes I find an overripe apple, that’s enough for me.

The flower turns its head, back and forth, facing the sun, the bees, nothing at all. Luring and provoking, caressing and charming until utter confusion of the bee. Just when they think the nectar is close, the flower delivers a striking blow.

A bee can only sting once, a flower does not even need a stinger.

A bee is a hard worker. They were born into the work, that’s just how the systems work. Forever haunted by the fragrance. Nonetheless, the flower needs the bee. In the end, it will wilt when ignored by the bee. And who wants to see that? So better watch out, flower, don’t deliver too many blows.

Me? I am just a mere spectator captivated by another ripe apple. For sure you will smell my fragrance, latest tomorrow. Or next week, for a new weekly state.

Buzz, buzz.

I see the world in squares and lines.

An architect identifies structure, I find the chaos. I reproduce the chaos and add my own chaos to it. It’s a car crash of visions. And still, it makes sense, at least to me.

I am drawing, drawn to, drawn by. Whatever makes the piggy squeal I guess. The canvas is terrifying if it stays white. So I draw wildly, are you filling your canvas, too?

I just have one last tip before you leave: get some color. Black and white is too harsh, get some of the beautiful shades of life. Don’t limit yourself to dark and light.

I am the guy that draws, is drown to and drawn by,

You?

I am sorry for the delay, I had to do inventory.

As is, I do feel sorry for the fool whose mind is connecting the dots and thinks of money when reading my state. I do, indeed, invite you to come on a journey with me.

There have been many ghosts trying to warn humans of their past and future. Some are kind, some brutal. Yet, humans do not see themselves as vessels carrying life. So I will try to explain what you do until that sand runs out in your clock.

While power and strength, speed and vitality constantly decline, you are spending it. Every single day, you spend. Some resources you spend freely even though they were carefully selected to accompany you through a lifetime. Some spending you notice, other times it is oblivious to your mind.

So why rich then, Papa, you might ask? Well you spend but you gain. You gain experience, you gain knowledge and if you are lucky, you get to gain lessons. The body might get weaker but your mind and your invisible backpack get heavier. Even when loosing, you gain. In every single transaction there is gain to be seen.

Of course, over time you will see how much you spent. Some rewards will follow hardship and vice versa. But the gains sculpt your mind and make you a beautiful character andonis. That is, if you spend wisely.

With this knowledge it is up to you, to become rich, or maybe even stay rich.

I pity the fool who spends for the sake of spending.

Excuse me now, I will gain, calories, for I am about to open a bottle of beer.

With the head in the clouds I was brought into this existence. Now the clouds have taken over the head itself.

I have drifted and fallen, risen. Whatever has been planned most likely didn’t happen. So here I go, dreaming again, knowing that it is a futile exercise.

I am surviving on ideas and possible scenarios, I strive through them and suffer. Well mostly, suffering and success are just the byproduct of the environment. For example, whenever I am drifting through a rain cloud, I suffer in my dreams. They are tainted, dark. Uncomfortable and cold. But oh well, let me tell you, when the sun is shining the place where my stomach should be is jumping.

This week I am dreamy. You’re asking yourself what my current environment is? Whether I am suffering dreamy or my interior is jumping? That’s the beauty of it, you’ll never know.

Equally, I won’t know for you. Maybe we will see each other in the rain or sunshine, we can talk about our dreams. Celebrate or warm each other under an umbrella.

Sweet juice running through my veins, making me want to touch the flowers and speak with the bees.

The strange longing to be outside with everyone, by yourself.

The feeling I have when someone invites me and I kindly decline. Only to turn up in the late hours.

The pleasure of watching a meadow without actually being burnt in the sun. Instead, being blown by the wind.

Having sunglasses on without any necessity to do so.

Waving to a stranger.

These sentences get shorter but the portrait is painted. It’s the height of summer. Find your moment. Frolick around yourself, with others, frolick to represent the state of frolickenment. This is not a word but if you haven’t noticed the ridiculous nature of my state, your loss.

Ba-bye.