"Apollo Figueiredo"の名言

I lay there. Lay there. The places we call home, are never remembered on a map. And all manic episodes start with a thought.

She left me ravenous and wishing upon fireflies for more. Limbs as puzzle pieces we fit together.

We were all deeply more ourselves than we had been before.

Nature was beautiful and I felt in tune with the universe, like every single decision I had made had brought me to here, to the glowing now. And here is such a beautiful place to be

We had sat on a bench to take a moments break earlier and we discussed the possibility of always being this high, obviously in love with the feeling of the world being perfect. Daren was sold on this possibility, thinking that this was the way to happiness. As happy as it made me I knew it was an experience that could not be repeated. When an experience is new or when it has not been felt in a long time, that is when it is its most profound. I knew it could not be repeated the same way. Beauty is so rarely repeated in experience. So they say, pleasure comes in halves.

What is the word that describes that feeling of complete of absent mindedness mixed with a sobering clarity. Like staring at a room that has gone blindingly full of light, a whiteness that keeps your mind attentive. What is the word for that feeling and does anyone else ever feel it? Do people begin everyday with their own prayer to a nameless god that is actually the universe? Are wishes our first thoughts of the day?

Beauty in a dream and beauty in reality can both be witnessed first hand. Mad men and women also witness beauty in their delusions. My world is full of those delusions but perhaps so is everyone else’s since we read into things and in the reading into of things we lose their truth in order to gain some truth in insight.

Another thing I had to learn the hard way is that once the mind is stretched by experience it can never go back to its original dimensions. No matter how desperately the alleged master of the mind wishes it could forget. That means every belief, understanding and perspective I ever have will be shaped by my past experience. Bias becomes unavoidable.

I remember I thought that she smelled like something I had never smelt before, but it was the sweetest scent. I could not describe it, but it was like a picture. A painting I had wanted to see my whole life. She was rainy mornings, and the view of cars going by in blurs while you sat still. She was the moon, that was full, but you know could empty if there ever was a sadness. The emptiness is the part I hated. It was a feeling that made you empty to reciprocate hers, it was a feeling that when she was full she could make you full too.

It is the same way someone can greet death, to look in her eyes. The light that shone over her black hair whether artificial or natural made it glisten, never choking out the grand her. There is this deep belief that you know that this person has the power to kill you. Even if it does not hurt, even if it is not a pang of pain you feel inside you at every moment that you think will or will never go away. It is there anyways, I think I may think about it everyday and wish it had been different. It was a possible outcome I would have liked to live in.

All the joints and drinks in the world could only serve to remind me. I imagine myself being Gatsby watching the party that I have thrown to get to where I am. A future where there is a something. Where I am better, where I am something.

People are scared to talk about death, they fear what is inevitable because it ends the current chapter without knowing if there will be a sequel, but it would be so beautiful to wake up as your flower. Or an atom, part of some distant planet with you. We could collide until we merged like all the physics teachers said was inevitable. Neutrons, protons and some unforeseen gravitational force. We could be drops of UV rays on the skin of some moon. I am always stuck at writing a sentence without you, no writers block would be worth not thinking of you.

The last step before death is the moment of its demise. The emptiness or the new life. But the last step is also a point of reference itself. The last step can last as short or as long as its creator defines it. The last step could be before death itself. It could be the middle of death. It could be the last goodbye or the last look before eyelids drop to a close like curtains.

The truly cost effective lifestyle would be to produce everything you require, it would subsequently imply a self-created kind of freedom. Time would be lost but it would all be your own, this however does not account for skill. The current institutionalised education system was not made for self-sustainability but rather extreme specialisation. The business sector itself accounts for a large amount of activity, so much so that it has its own defining term: the economy. Spaces in the world, both virtual and spatial have always had the socio-polticial-economic system but now it is more defined, more contested and more vulnerable.

I think I finally understand what it is that you experienced in our last moments together. The fear to resign yourself to a final belief greater than yourself. It is difficult to decide what cause to believe in because of the fear that it is a lesser unworthy cause, it is not the meaning but rather a symptom of looking for meaning. And in all of our attachments we long for them to have meaning no matter how long they last. It is a scary thing to create such a drastic action that changes your life. It requires more than faith, there will be a second where only the action and what Kierkegaard called the infinite movement would have to occur. The final dance.

People age even in pictures. Champagne glasses can stay full. With enough of a leap you could say that pictures amongst the galaxies and quasars capture a tiny bit of the universe for however long they last. The only thing pictures cannot do is keep someone alive in anything but memory after they have passed. Some pictures although painful to look at should always stay up on our walls to remind us from time to time of who we have loved.

It is a dangerous thing to go back searching to your past. All things grow, that means all things change. Two parallel lines do not meet, unless in infinity. The past would always feel different experienced in the present. What if the fond memories go away if you live in them for a little while. Maybe I am going in circles cause it could go either way. Now orbits, orbits are different. Gravitational pull is at play. And if Newton’s laws are taken into account the only way to create an orbit is to have a force that pushes you into motion, but also pushes you at a distance where another orbit is able to push and pull yours in an equal way. I guess our gravity has to be flung out into the void at its own force in order to find a matching orbit.

It is funny to think our perceptions of the world change second to second as we continue to experience more of it. And that everyone is creating their own meaning and purpose with every second that they experience. It seems impossible not to get caught up, or lost, in those moments of constantly change and we as imperfect beings surely interpret our reality in false ways because no one can know the actual truth of the world only their perception of it. The actual truth of what is best for them is always an idea. The people that say that they live in the moment, as most people do, are often forgetting that the moment in the present should be used to progress. Successes and failures are only understood in moments in the future, based on the present, during moments of clarity in retrospect. For this reason, I think its important to forgive people in order to give ourselves freedom.

I want to be your lighthouse No matter how many dreams change I want to be built upon rock Weathered by storms Smoothed out by the sea With jagged edges only you know

I have felt your drool on me And never loved you more Then with your closed eyes Telling my shirt that home was not full of sights But only full of soul.