#abstractjournal

Lullabies made of the matter of fancies / And wistfulness densified, thoughts of despondence

Under the cover of stars made rare / by smog and scarce perception / I wonder, reflect and inhale the light...

In the first turn of the spiral I witness souls unravel / I try to speak but utter not a sound, not e'en a single...

A pioneer-pigeon with clipped pinions / in the sewer-street where tread heavy limits...

Source Rama Justice was happy. She had just received her result and had been promoted. She was 18 years old when she sat for the exam. It was her third time sitting for the entrance exam and this time

I walked along the trail which I had traversed so many times I would not dare attempt to count the instances...

SOURCE Pain is love The heart labored in thoughts It's choice lingered on this cross road, love or live Wandering with heavy beats The Romeo, reciting Shakespearean lines And Juliet, falling like Rose

Out of an undifferentiated mass of thoughts [ . . . ] comes a narrative grasping at the thin cords above...

I intend to start from somewhere — here, this hov'ring nexus seems as a good a place as any from my shad'wy path to veer

All these portaled grids and lidded veils / who stare into each others' depths and sigh...

A tatter — flayed meshwork of meaning / by discord assaulted: fine fabric rough-clawèd...

Didn’t get too many steps in today, was honestly still a bit sore from walking so much the past few days! After every life examination there must be the aftermath. The crisp air of this April is producing

Data in the confines of my mind / locked between encoded neural nets, waiting for decryption courage-sewn...

Blocks of memory chained piecemeal: in contrast to the digital — chaos reigns supreme in old psyche.

There is more to mine than block rewards...

Pollen-swirls have ringed around my crown / springtime sun is speaking through the sound...

An extraordinary flash flood sweeps all the tender detritus down, down into the ravine of potential...

I will write upon these paper leaves / with my eyes — the painted histories / will guide my etch...

Clusters of events — the strangest chain / of happenstance unfolding day by day...

The tides of time have pulled me / to the churning intersection / of a hist'ry tinged with sorrow...