I'm walking , no , I'm writing, on a page , a white page now full , then clean. I'm writing what I think , what I was thinking a minute ago , what was I thinking? Am I the same person I was 2 minutes ago ? no , 3 minutes ago , Time is passing by , I'm runing out of time , I'm freaking out , but no , time is infinite , I can never run out of time , nor can I die then , death isn't what causes me to end litterly , It's life , me living and dying at the same time is what defines me , Defines me ? I cannot be defined , I'm too complicated as a being , more complicated that language , ideas , or imagination itself . What is imagination ? is it what I create, what I'm creating , or is it the process of me being created ? Is reality the second phase of imagination , or is it an image that's covering what I shouldn't see, what could be extraordinary and magnificent but shouldn't.
It's 00:00 , I've proven time doesn't stop me , or does it ? I don't know , I'd rather not know..
In the beginning all of this was silent. A silent earth we might think of it as that. A silent earth where different plants grew up and then animals and then humans. Such amazing creations coming up from nothing. When there was nothing, who was there? Was it god?
Then why do we feel the emotions within us, who creates these emotions in us. Even a child can feel this. Where from did these feelings come within us. Which does not exist in the animals out there. So who are we ..just another part of creations..just another partof existence..collective existence thats there throughout the world, earth right now.
Such a huge population , the sun coming up and going down and one more day taken out from your life. So unreal....so you know where its all going towards...death...so we are moving towards death?
But then what is life? Perhaps the way this has been is that life is forever changing and we should accept whatever it gives us. Is that what islife...
A typical weekday...I get up, eat my breakfast-toast, have a shower, get dressed, brush teeth, do hair, pack bag, go to school-by car or train. Get into school, walk up stairs to classroom and sit there learning for two hours. Have snack/play with friends outside, half-an-hour. Come back inside for another two hours. Eat lunch inside for 15 mins, go outside/play for 45 mins. Last hour learning again come home...I love learning but even better is the 3:30 school bell when I come home, chill and go on social media, do homework...do whatever I want till dinner! My favourite classes are Maths, English and Art-I've said that before. My favourite day of the week is Friday-after that bell you have 2 days of RELAXATION!!!!
I have some secret audio files buried deep in my digital data structures, obscured from all casual observation. They are voice mails from someone that I once had tender feelings for. And by "tender," I mean "category 5, level red, insane." But I listen to them and, though I've healed and moved on, there is a slow burn the lurches in me when I hear it still today. I have these old letters, too, from people who I have loved in the past. Letters from, I believe, truly, important people who loved me, too. They say nothing too profound, but they are profound to me anyway. They are ghosts on paper. Spectre-Letters. Linguistic evidence of connection. I keep them safe. If my house were to burn to the earth, and if the letters burned there, too, I would survive. But I would miss those ghost-fragments dearly. Maybe I should just let go of them now. Maybe I should foster future ghosts.
Mandatory training bogs down the antidotes. Required courses tames the horses. I'm doodling my restless doodles. Hedonists talk about inane activities. "Is this hell," I accidentally ask out loud. Fortunately nobody hears me over their own verbal flow; their self-obsessed vocal show. They talk about all their stuff. Fragments and pieces loosely associated but tightly constrained around themselves. It's like listening to elevator music. It's like house staging. It's all nice and pretty, but inhuman, unreal, fake, dead. Dead in a fancy way. Dead in spirit. Dead in humor. Fat. The instructor says we can take a break. I drift off to far away places. Oceans rage. Zebras bey as the lion chases them. I'm watching God's show, where there is more to see everywhere you go. And more to know. And more to be.