Mould it, Shape it

Surreal thoughts

I open the door… off I go… I go back to my inner- self. The nature is calling me, I want to abandon the necessities of existence and embrace the simplicity of my own immaculately woven world- made of intricate loops joined together in a chain of bitter happiness.

Is anxiety a curse or a gift? Maybe both. I was born this way, cursed or gifted? Incurable disease- they would call it many years ago, they would lock you up in the mental institution for being different? What has changed now? The fact that you are different, you can shape it and mould it the way you like. If you look for an affordable mental counseling from the government you won’t receive it unless you are border line suicidal. Cutting costs, you are just a number in the system. Shape it, mould it, live it.

Grey Thoughts

Surreal thoughts

Grey thoughts are blooming in my head like rotten apples dying in the tree. Drops of rain falling on my face keep me awake. I try to fall to sleep but I can’t because being in a coma doesn’t sound appealing to me at all. I don’t feel myself anymore. I’m just a machine who is programmed to live among other people. The last ounce of human carcass in my heart admires the nature. I’m sleepy and I’m tired. Goodnight Misery. Welcome blissful state of mind.

Calling of the Inner-Voice

Surreal thoughts

The tune of my soul is sort of psychodelic and atmospheric which makes the whole song orgasmic and that’s what I look for in music, music for me has always been a kind of drug which can take over your brain making the reality more bereable for the duration of the song ( at least).

I usually keep this part of myself locked tightly in the box in the corner of my mind. This part should remain open because it’s a vital piece of my Inner- Self and the Inner- Self is mainly who I really Am- the Inner- Self is my unscattered soul. I have conformed to the rules of society to stay afloat in order to survive and build a fort which would protect me from people who don’t understand me. My soul is wild and relies on the artistic stimulants, it craves nature, looks for the meaning of life which resides in Buddhism, it misses howling wolves in the deep dark wild woods, the true home is out there in the middle of greenery covered with the blanket of dew drops among the crimson red twigs which joyfully pierce my shattered soul preparing it for eternal rest where it belongs.

ZEN

Precious Experiences

I stood outside barefoot on the pricly concrete wondering where to go. The demise of my thoughts was tormeting my bruised and shattered soul. The pain pierced my heart and the sorrow buried my brain. They placed me in the cemetery for reclusive and self punished creatures. Still alive but in deep hibernation I thought I took my last breath. I didn’t have a poignant farewell, nobody celebrated my extinction. My only companion who stayed with me for better and worse was faithful SOLITUDE. It wasn’t a final chapter but a prequel to LIFE. I gathered shattered pieces and built my own garden of Eden laid on the foundations of ZEN. I cherish my acquired spiritual freedom every single day. I stand outside barefoot feeling soft, juicy green and wavy grass under my feet. I feel delighted and spoilt. The beautiful life continues.