I recieved a punch to the stomach and now I can't breathe. It lasts and lasts and I hold my breath when the air comes back to me. I left my skin and I live solely in air and thoughts. Its a bit like medidating, only unintended.
What happens when your body and your thoughts becomes a prison only you can break free from, only you have the key to, but cannot seem to find it?
My skin is crawling and I have two tiny dwarfs fighting over my thought, like they're ropes to be cut off and owned... I feel like dying and dancing at the same time. Let me get some sleep!
northstar
About Me
- Ejlis
- I'm defined by whats going on in my life. i might be constantly greeneyed and small-nosed, but I'm always changing. In the moment I'm defined by up-rooting, re-rooting and thoughts of choices and changes. Could I, we, root anywhere? Are roots necessary or is it overshadowed by the restlessness in us all? Looking at world events, I feel these questions reflected around the world. it might be because I presently struggle with them and are narrowed by my own view, but I see the these struggles everywhere. Meeting people, understading their roots always seem important to me, respecting their past. And sometimes I think we underrestimate our roots, sometimes I think roots hold us back. But again, somebody has said something really clever about this:If we do not honour our past, we lose our future. If we destroy our roots, we cannot grow. (Friedensreich Hundertwasser) I just visit some of his architechture in Vienna, and fell for both his work and his quotes. Maybe, again, because they resonnate with something in me that I focus on at the moment. And this is the way my world is colored now. With Hundertwasser and the color of change.
US marines
polarbear
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