Father Time

If there is one enemy that I have, it shall be time. It's time alone that does what it wants during the absence of your attention. It can be a good thing sometimes, but too often, you open your eyes and you realize that you have wasted too much of your precious time. Yes, precious. I guess it's a love & hate thing after all. And yet, my love for Father Time doesn't grant me the mercy that I was aiming for. He knows no mercy, neither does the tip of his sickle. Time never ever stood still, either. It's all perception, cerebral illusion, not optic, but cerebral. You just don't know how to live with it best, so you decide to ignore it, unaware that the consequences could be fatal. I wonder how does the heart perceive? I don't think I understood it the way I was supposed to, like they did. So I thought it was merely chemistry – like every reaction has an end. But I'm no longer sure what to make of it. Like reality, time is always there…to be consumed or maybe to be ignored. Nothing ever goes away. Through the numbness you look at the clock and it doesn't seem to matter anymore. But when looking at the hourglass, how the sand flows from one glass bulb into the other, you get a sense of urgency. You are more aware of what you have got – and that's time. Learning to get on with time…

Mirth of Saturn

It happens a lot that a moment just vanishes within a blink. You’re no longer sure what there is that you can still capture. It’s all going away as if it has never been here in first place. Seize the moment. You hear this and you go stiff, spending too much time thinking if it’s going to be another mistake. The next thing you realise is that the footsteps have receded into a distance so you can no longer tell where you are and whether or not you’ve followed any steps. So you either turn back or you stand there. Pretending not to be lost, you do not hesitate to choose a direction, because you’ve always been good at making decisions. You know you can’t have it all.
You have a choice. By all means choose. You can go anywhere you want.

There is a bed on which you could sleep for ten years, but as soon as you are underneath the cover, the horror of thought consumes your essence by turning tranquillity and reason into slaves of the wake. You press your eyes shut so tightly, they begin to water. Monsters and noises are rain dancing on the top of your head like nightmares looking to set free. Your planet is getting closer, longing for your long lost company.

Nothing is quite as it seems because you never know the meaning of what you see or experience. They say it doesn’t matter, it just happens. It’s going to be a good day. So why care about the reason of it all?
But truth be told, you never cared.
You just have a myriad of questions of which the answers do not add up to the truth.

Not even the greatest minds in history made it any further, so why would you?
In the end they no longer questioned and that’s the key to mirth. They knew it, of course. The endless string of inquisitions was what made them miserable and despicable. They couldn’t help it. Everything comes with a question; one after the other. It’s hard living and not knowing.
While there are a great number of things of which we know the answer, there are places where we’ve never been, like on Saturn where you wouldn’t survive with merely helium gas.
They say Saturn’s rings are particles of a former moon that smashed apart in a collision millions of years ago. But Cronos prevailed. Titan actually has an atmosphere with gravity so weak, you could strap a set of wings on you arms and fly. Cronos will lift you up.
Only with a heat like yours you will survive the cold.
They say Saturday children are very much influenced by Saturn’s stormy weather. So far away from the sun, what did you expect? Only the cool autumn air can tame your heart and brain, so tender, so homely. With Saturn’s low density you will float on water. (However, where you are now, you will sink into the deepest abyss)
When listening to the eerie sounds of Titan and Saturn’s rings recorded by Nasa you realise they are similar to the noise which you’d once heard during an unnerving afternoon nap some years ago. It was not the unplugged television after all.
Your first year on Saturn.

Hourglass

If only you knew that the climate change has become the equivalent of who we are in reality – a little off balance. I haven’t quite wrapped my head around this and I never would have thought I would say this, but I admire old couples, although I’m not the most tolerant person when it comes to old age. Still there is something admirable about consistency, as in the concept of accepting things the way they are and not questioning them. A shame that there is only little that I accept and my questions never seem to have an end.

I like the end of things. This is why autumn is the most meaningful season that we have and currently, along with the climate change, we get a lot of autumn. So does this mean we’re approaching the end of things? Or just the end of you? Funny that you don’t think about these things.

In the early morning between 5 and 6 I smell spring in the damp air, in the pink blossoms and in the evening I smell the end of the day, the smell of autumn, the smell of the end and I become calmer. I’ve figured that everything and everyone smells inexplicably bad during the day. They’re everywhere robbing your air, your space and your soul.
The only sentiment that you’re left with is loss, because deep inside you believe that we are here to create and share and you’ve realized you’ve done none of that today.

It’s cold, but the window will remain open throughout the night. I guess I need to capture autumn as much as I can, as I’m still heating up and it’s difficult to suppress that. Keep that child’s forehead cool with a wet towel. You see he’s hallucinating again. He thinks you’re Cronos, his favourite Greek God who has arrived to give him an hourglass. Our days come in grains of sand through the hourglass.

Delirium is a nice place to be if you have no fear; you have to be awake, as fear only shows in your dreams.

I lied; I don’t like the end of things. I only pretend I do. There is a danger in looking forward to things and the danger is the fear of the transitory.

Each grain counts. And this I need to remind myself every day.

Fear and change

So many people have accidentally called me recently. By “accidentally” I mean, they have their phones in their pockets and somehow a movement caused a certain touch and unlocked their phones that way. How interesting. The phone is telling you that I still exist. I mean my phone’s ringing, isn’t it? It’s just a shame that when I pick up I am immediately teleported into your pocket. What’s more interesting, when I miss the call you then leave me a 4-minute voicemail with funny noises. The last voicemail sounded like Curtis preparing his suicide.

You remember when I said the William Tell game is not merely about trust? There’s a hell of a lot of fear involved, opposed to your own belief in yourself. And it is self-belief that scares the shit out of me. Doubt is what we’re grown up with and it will always be a root in our conscience that we cannot rip out.
Fear is not always rational, but it’s there; it’s not something that we can simply dispel from every day life. If there is one thing that I’ve realized it’s that fear can be tackled in association with indifference. It begins with the question “Why?” and “Is the fear really worth it?” I know that we have instincts, too, and most of the time we cannot comprehend. But does the animal ever question the inexplicable?
I noticed that the only time you really express fear is in your dreams, which pretty much says it all, right? Fear grabs hold of everything that’s you, such as your guilt, your flaws and even your achievements and shakes them like milk. And now where has your balance gone?

Deconstruction is all about the significance of change, no, sorry, the certainty and inevitability of change. This leads us back to fear, as people fear change, no matter if for the better or worse. Change is a disruption of the clock of consistency. Move time by one hour back or forward and people already get uneasy and restless. But they don’t realize how easily it passes, it’s not even a jetlag, it’s just a little change. It’s not only your body’s clock that you need to worry about, but also your sense of perception and how wide you can open up your mind. For some people it takes a whole life to realize something. This will only happen once a change has entered their life.

The only person who is always hungry for change is the artist – he who cannot settle down. Once he is a victim of a routine like most of ‘them’, he becomes numb and trapped. This numbness is triggered by dull repetitions and swimming with the stream. If he swims the other way he’ll be referred to as the stupid person, the outsider.
In order to set himself free (at least for a little while) he shuts the door and sews his mouths shut. That’s when his face changes and he will no longer be able to hold back or keep that vexatious thought in his head. It’s sore inside his ribcage and he loves it, as suddenly he has come back to life. His vision has transcended into the eyes of illusions, but he prefers to call them inspirations.

I admit that I am scared of phones, because I hate talking on the phone. And if you ring me and keep me in your dark pocket without saying a word, I shall feel even more scared. Or seeing a miscall from someone that you used to like, but you haven’t heard from in a year, you get excited about the fact that they’ve called and it turned out to be a fucking accidental call. Is it sad to say that I listened to that 4-minute voicemail of nothing?
Fuck the phone…fuck the phone…I’ve lost coherence, I’m sorry.
What was I talking about? The significance of fear…
Teach yourself indifference, not necessarily apathy (only if you know how to get out easily), but indifference is a good friend to make. He is gentle with scars.