This one is from my dairy and I wrote it in Thailand as I was out on the night. Wherever I go I always take a notebook and pen with me to write down how things are and what happens to me.
Image by ArtTower from Pixabay
A subterranean idea half in and out of what I couldn’t remove was taking a short circuit through the backyard of all I believed and was being swept away in the message of the spreading dawn and losing all support for the beliefs that couldn’t be believed.
These beliefs that were coming from somewhere most often and causing the thinking that if we’re all connected then this may be so even withstanding the perpendicular in a remarkable way.
But later in a strange place I came to that had no doors the echo of my heart preceding me, and though it was loud it was in those confines I found I was inside where I wanted to be.
Image by natureworks from Pixabay
And then the dark came in its daily occurrence so I went out to eat and wander amongst the towers and trees.
“Have you come for the nightlife?” asked the mystic monkey to which I had no return.
My neighbour in his three thousand horse power wheelchair passed me at the speed of sound and going like the clappers, so I didn’t wave; maybe I’d catch up to him later when his battery wore down.
The time came to turn inside out which wasn’t hard and then I had no more ideas and found it a good place to be.
And so without floundering I began my search for a good place to sing from in the lover’s embrace.
From an equation that was constant in the dreaming of many, clarity and courage attached themselves to my shadow and followed me in and out of here and there until they became lost among the bright lights of those that came to dance.
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
Momentarily feeling light I skipped in this until the inside turned around to find me walking along the many paths of abbreviations that were making it once and for all and would never see the end until they were old, not knowing that you never grow old, that it’s only the outer appearance that changes.
The feeling of a familiar exchange began to spread from the place I’d discarded it to and although I tried not to listen to it, it influenced me enough to turn my back on what I should have heard.
And so began the process of finding what I hadn’t lost until the spreading dawn came again in another suburban idea I couldn’t remove.
It was here I realised I was repeating patterns and wondered which set of beliefs brought it on to keep me stuck and going around in circles.
As with so many mornings that came and went like this I found myself worn out and close to the river of no return.
My neighbour came around the corner of depleted expectations still in his by now well worn wheelchair and gave me a tired wave. I returned his wave with one of my own and wondered if he’d enjoyed the jazz and my nightly performance in the crooner’s lounge.
Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay
But not all the gravy in the world can move a mountain of soup further than it will flow unless it comes to the end of all things and falls over the edge into the eternity below.
And then I thought that this is why sleep was invented so you can go somewhere to forget about it all and let the night just fade away...
Image by Bogdan Radu from Pixabay
Images from Pixabay