The following are a collection of phrases and writings that I found when scouring through my old notebooks. They range from short one line aphorisms, meandering meditations, to fully formed poems. The main theme I find in them all is a sort of fascination with the imagination and visualization world – a place where I was exploring often at the time – the land of dreams. To “explore” this place is extremely taxing – as it absorbs part of you – as Nietzsche said “if you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you”.
These writings were the result of much peering into the abyss – and so you will find many themes regarding memory, dream, darkness, and light. I guess one of the most persistent ideas is the idea of reality being like a black empty sky and we are like the stars who shine for each other. I think the whole unconscious motivation for my journey “within” was about discovering how to “awaken” my inner star and shine outwards onto the world.
Looking back over these I feel great nostalgia as I believe this phase has run it’s course and so I realize that I might never write or think like this again – this thought both fills me with relief and with sorrow – I guess that is what makes these pieces so special.
Love blinds us,
Death reminds us,
Light finds us,
Ignorance binds us,
Truth guides us,
Hate defines us,
Yet the music still unites us.
I can hear and see so much in my imagination, and if i just seek it, coax it out of the void – then i have it – all i need, right there with me. I see the midnight moon hang full across the purple sky. The clouds hang silver orange as the wind rolls warm. The stillness aches within me as my mind attempts to grasp on to the beautiful feast that coats the landscape. I know I can never have it – I know it will never last. But these just seem to make it shine stronger in the purple sky. All this is I can see hang gently in her eye – the great tragedy of life is that memory outlives beauty.
What does what comes out of a persons mouth tell me about the person? How can I view my words to change my mind? To know my mind – What will I ever need when I can look into myself.
The virtue of strength – reality is drenched in it. So fragile is the world, yet so alive and shining like the sun. I am this strength. We are all born with strength. All cynics are secret haters of strength. Expression, freedom, and life – that is strength. if reality is an illusion – it is a stronger illusion than the alternate.
We define ourselves in hate
We are all meteors of mind – crashing into the ocean called reality – being born in the impact and growing in the bubble of our own momentum – from child, to adult, to corpse. Our essence is cutting through the water, leaving behind a trail of yesterdays. Ahead we could be anything – if we just learn to swim. It is a question of how good we are at swimming – I have just felt the stream.
In the mind cave you synthesize with the snake – the snake that is your thread in the web of life. This dragon reptile is your life force – and also your road to death. It will lead you ever deeper into your soul – and thus the soul of the earth.
When I close my eyes there is only darkness – which runs for miles – for aeons – it is endless. Am I the shining star who cannot see its very own shine? Which lights up a moment of the night – for another. Another across endless space. How do I light the darkness? Awaken the abyss that lies within? Know – excitement is our greatest treasure, and this adventure happens not alone.
A canvas meshed in an elucidian stream.
Form by form passes through my head,
Binding me to it – I become it,
Madness is realising you are free,
Freedom is acting out that idea – as opposed to having it.
There is an idea.
The idea that I am separate from my thoughts – that my thoughts wallpaper my reality – and that by watching my thoughts – I can recognize the themes that they float around. The knot the ripple over – and unravel it – be it death or madness – happiness or success. To watch my mind with doubt, and learn that it serves me.
I seem to think in dreams – for my emotions fly through out my body – broken. When I close my eyes reptiles flash within my mind – sunken deep in catacombs – climbing upwards by a string of hate that I dangle in my hands. These are shadows of my soul. I must let them speak as they bare their teeth. I say to myself that pain will decorate my art with depth – first it decorates my dreams – speaking symbol alphabets as all my feelings scream. Know they speak of choices that you made – that grew to pillars of your fate – that you can’t change. To be saved – forgive yourself. Again. The journey will not end – today.
Our souls bask in the presence of the light casting shadows on a canvas we call reality
I am become the blackland wanderer,
searching for the scattered pieces of my soul,
an old railway runs along the streets,
moving like the thunder of the times,
and these sleeping lights that line the streets,
become the silent watchers of the night.
I the wanderer across the way,
climbing through the arches of memory,
asking it to show me what it has seen.
Are my memories even me?
How I hang my heart into the deep,
hoping that secrets take my bait,
and unveil the visions of my fate.
I am a fisherman upon an abstract sea,
dreaming of the doors that set me free.
Tell me now if something real happens. The metal gods rise from the crumbling concrete earth and spread their hidden digital wings across the block stacked offices of ages – and send our pulses through their blood of electric heat and rage – and grow forever from the grey. Our time of flesh has come to pass – we are the thoughts of the machine.
I am a cosmic dancer weaving in a sea of shadow. I sing the symbols of my soul. I bring them to this strange world. I paint them on the walls of my perception and search the deep with the magic of my mind. My focus spears into the black – guided by the fires of my infinite love. My imagination breathes colour into the rolling silent thunder. I become the art that I create – forever a shining star – which struggles through the darkness
I dreamed a life of gentle rain. How the clouds were grey and rolling and the wind blew steady as the rain pattered on the tiny window. I looked out to see the trees drop their leaves of nourishment and the rain flowed off their many leaves onto the floor, where the trickles turned to streams and rambled down the concrete footpath onto the road and carved away the ground until they formed great valleys, lakes and waterfalls. I stepped into the rain and felt of how it wet my shoes, and then my feet – the socks absorbing everything. I walked into the rain as it coated my face – until it glistened – and my hair parts and takes on a whole new form. The latent smells of all my clothes emanate – and I see how the water on me converts itself into steam carries with it my very soul into the sky to on day become a day of rain.
I am become the righteous one, who’s soul is burning like the sun.
Who’s words are falcons shining bright, that strike like thunder in the night,
that sink the carriages of fear, and light the passages of dare.
The saviour who dreams in flame, who’s blessings floods your mind like rain,
raging like the beating heart, that shakes the doubters chest apart.
Conqueror of apathy, who breaks your hopes to set you free.
I am the shining blood of suns – my crimson hopes I have become.
I know my words will be my keys – but it’s my heart that sets me free.
All the moments I have watched wash away down life’s stream – they’re photos I can’t change. The song of a crimson dawn. Her shining crystal eyes. The smell of a happy earth blooming in the spring. A hungry flame licking my skin. My treasured blood moving like a serpent down my arm. The serene midnight moon lazily crossing the star paths. I grip at the droplets in my palm and weep as they fall into the river. I kneel and surrender to the memories – all I ever had to do was let go