ah well.
the decision may come sooner than expected
it is just that I am undecided as to whether I should feel excited or scared.
there are just too many things I don't know.


on another note,

faces come crushing head on
shadows appear with illumination
i don't wish to see
they shine with an engulfing presence
obscuring faces

I am wakeful
from a sleep last night and the night before
I am asleep
from the waking I endured

you don't ease the pain
I suffer the happiness
hope makes my vision blurred
I forget in order to remember

watch the wind blows against us
I don't feel the wind brushing against our faces
I watch, as the wind blows against our eyes; and blind we are.
I watch with this blindness

my home becomes my prison
my prison, my home.
my escape is not my freedom
my freedom is my prison
I am home.
there is nothing special and unique about my home
I thought it so.

I shall suffer none, the least my waking dream
for I do not dream
and I do not wake
only a motionless narrow gate I stare with vivid blindness
it is fuzzy as my eyes blink.
but I do not walk
and I do not run
I am moving as stationary as I can be
I am mute as much as I am noisy

I am noisy as little as I am mute.
I assume no other form than my own
I become no one but a becoming
I tremble, I envy, I stare at my staring
looking at the reflection of my pupils
I see, myself, staring back, myself, an alien to myself

you won't know.
you do not see
you do not have my eyes
you do not have my senses
you do not have my thoughts

heads go softening the faces of age
turning and tilting at angles unrecognizable
I do not know you/you do not know I
but babies or monsters we give birth to
the monstrosity of the unknown
the crying trumpet of the known! I cried with my first sense of this world!
thrown into everything and nothing
where I am both destroyed and created.
no. not me. and not you. We.

there is patience that is taught by the wind.
when it does not announces itself.
It just flow to where the gaps are.
where there can never be vacumns.
there is no such thing as nothingness.

neither everything nor nothing.
I am the dispository of faith
where faith blows like wind
when gaps burst open at every opportunity.
to fill me up with elevating consquence
and I heave, and the wind escapes
and we meet again, in between paradise and hell
and death takes us
where birth has presupposed
I do not know, I need not know, I do not know, because there was everything I knew before I un-knew them

I fear. I repeat. I tremble. I scream
and there is joy in the foreboding reality
killing me softly with words
words that escape the creators of them
words destroyed at the very moment they were spoken.

ah. silence is a virtue that preachers despise unconsciously.
Though, unconscious should not be proud.
There is no unconsciousness without consciousness.
There is no music if there is no wood to vibrate.

words must come when wind fills us up
and the implosion results in an explosion
there is no triumph.
there is no will.
only the evitable response to our will. (and so we imagine one to respond to)
I thought it so.

So shock me.
randomly. to demystify randomness by my expectation of randomness.
but I cannot expect the exact and the definite.
Hence, I am always blind.
Always unknowing. All-knowing that I do not know.

and here it ends.
before I even announced it.
this ended even before it started.

on another note.

--

I don't get you.
and you don't get me too.
so forget it.
you can build your paper robots for all you want in my dreams. I don't give a damn in the waking world.
all i know is that: I lived today to understand yesterday when it is tomorrow
and I will do what I will do tomorrow for the day after to be today

Liebe zu enden

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