Day 1883, interior.

Daily picture, Poetry

I have a bright exterior

something that worries me

Day 1882, cocoon.

Daily picture, Poetry

We travel together

in a small cocoon

~

building up pressure

but also close

~

sharing the same

going forwards

~

and still nor seeing

each other’s

own side

Day 1881, luggage.

Daily picture, Poetry

When I look back

I see so much room

for you

and your luggage

but no easy way to get there

if you want to drive with me

Day 1879, new time.

Daily picture, Poetry

We are moving to a new house

it will be

for a while

a bright spot

in our life

~

but time

it looks to go forwards

but it is just

slowly

showing you all that is new

till it isn’t

Day 1878, what?

Daily picture, Poetry

When you come in

to my house

~

I can show you

what I see

when I wake up

and close the door

behind you

Day 1877, no littering.

Daily picture, Poetry

There was still

something left of you

when you hit the ground

~

everything you once was

spilled out

you were no more

an empty vessel

~

you made a mess

and I wanted to leave you

but I picked you up

and threw you away

Day 1875, curiosity.

Daily picture, Poetry

You know where I am

I told you a thousand times

~

but maybe the words I speak

the order they are in

the meaning I give them

are pointless

and empty for you

~

but you still know where I am

you could come by

and ask

what I mean

~

Or don’t you want to know?

Day 1874, seeing doubt.

Daily picture, Poetry

The door stared at me in silence

as if it didn’t want to disturb me

in my hesitation

~

I realized

that I shouldn’t open a door

that looks at me

Day 1873, ignore.

Daily picture, Poetry

I sometimes wonder

why these people have children

before they…

~

I guess

~

I guess

there is never

a right time

Day 1872, blind.

Daily picture, Poetry

Every day I live

in another room

~

but still I see the same

world

through blinds

~

even when they are

raised

Day 1871, locket door.

Daily picture, Poetry

I see the door

It blends with the rest that is real

what’s inside is locked away and nearby

it will never be seen

but I know, there is a door.

“Of whom and of what can I say: “I know that”! This heart within me I can feel, and I judge that it exists. This world I can touch, and I likewise judge that it exists. There ends all my knowledge, and the rest is construction. For if I try to seize this self of which I feel sure, if I try to define and to summarize it, it is nothing but water slipping through my fingers. I can sketch one by one all the aspects it is able to assume, all those likewise that have been attributed to it, this upbringing, this origin, this ardor or these silences, this nobility or this vileness. But aspects cannot be added up. This very heart which is mine will forever remain indefinable to me. Between the certainty I have of my existence and the content I try to give to that assurance the gap will never be filled.”

Albert Camus

Day 1870, no shadows.

Daily picture, Poetry

I like to climb higher

not to reach a better place

but to see shorter shadows

We have our secrets and quiet conversations in the shadows, the things we don’t want to show in the light of day. Our shadows get shorter, the higher we climb (literally and hopefully figuratively), not that this shadow-less world takes away the secrets and bad habits we have, they are just clear to see for all. It’s not a better place per se, but at least a more honest one.

It is off course easy to imagine what would happen in a world where everybody speaks there mind, and where we can see unfiltered, what’s going on between companies and governments. It would be chaos, specially in the beginning, but on the other hand…we cannot stay mad forever at everybody just because they speak their mind…It is a a nice thought experiment. What would you think, would happen?