I grew up in a weathered yellow house
the skies were not always blue
except the one stone wall
it was always blue
I believe
or was it concrete
I am not sure
of what I remember
the door I do
it was the last thing
I closed
it was yellow
There is a line going through me
from one outside
to another
outside
It is not clear if something happens
in between
in me
between
these two...
events
“Modern man lives under the illusion that he knows ‘what he wants,’ while he actually wants what he is supposed to want. In order to accept this it is necessary to realize that to know what one really wants is not comparatively easy, as most people think, but one of the most difficult problems any human being has to solve. It is a task we frantically try to avoid by accepting ready-made goals as though they were our own.”
Escape from Freedom
We've all been in a line
upwards
to a horizon
counting the steps we take
as if we count for something
Infinity was, for a long time, a philosophical concept. We now live our lives as if we live forever, having a handful of genuine experiences at the end, where the rest is just meaningless time between these events, meaningless like a single drop is in a stream going down, part of it all but also not. We live as if life has no value because we still cannot believe that this is it; you don’t wash away hundreds of generations of indoctrination in the big promise of an afterlife or reincarnation.
I look at your wall
till it fills my view
it's more of the same
only slightly interesting
from here
up close
it still does not explain
why it is there
not knowing
what is in there
I hear rumbling going on
of a silent majority
being against
but for now
I only see the sun
going down
in a silent landscape
I like mountains
especially the parts
I can't reach
I like both windows in my house
I walk back and forth deciding
where I will sit
looking outside
it will be the staircase
I am afraid
I think
halfway
with my last breath
Blinds are what we all have
they might be open
and sometimes closed
but sooner or later
they all get stuck
Your darkness reflects
the world you reject
1 25 On the ‘realm of freedom‘. – We can think many, many more things than we can do or experience – that is to say, our thinking is superficial and content with the surface; indeed, it does not notice that it is the surface. If our intellect had evolved strictly in step with our strength and the extent to which we exercise our strength, the dominant principle of our thinking would be that we can understand only that which we can do – if understanding is possible at all. A man is thirsty and cannot get water, but the pictures his thought produces bring water ceaselessly before his eyes, as though nothing were easier to procure – the superficial and easily satisfied character of the intellect cannot grasp the actual need and distress, and yet it feels superior; it is proud of being able to do more, to run faster, to be at its goal almost in a twinkling – and thus it is that the realm of thought appears to be, in comparison with the realm of action, willing and experience, a realm of freedom: while in reality it is, as aforesaid, only a realm of surfaces and self-satisfaction.
It was bright where I was going
there were no dumb people to see
and the leaves were still lying around
on the footpath that I walked on
it was a good day
The evening sets in
the lights are still not on inside
maybe no one is home
or just don't believe
darkness taints
perception
I approach your side
still afraid
of the distance
and the closeness
The bars that keep me in
are just symbolic
and I know that
it stands for me
People who don't know the whole story are often eager to fill in the details with added reasoning for the part they know. For most, having a partial opinion is more important than having no opinion.
If I lift you up
but only half of you
would you be graceful
or do you only work
up or down
as a whole
Nochrisis 