Your Hand

Lend me your hand

A darkened alley connects heart & brain

How do I break away the eternal link

Between love & pain

Show me a way to understand.

Life Recycled

We are explorers,

Never-ending energy that drifts into eternity.

The very dust that we are made of will one day conform into another state of being

We are seeds in an infinite loop of blossoming,

An unending expansion and contraction of the universe,

One big bang after the other.

We are sailors

Casting away into space dust

Waves of particles carry our vibrance trough smooth, dark fields of apparent emptiness

We are tadpoles in an infinite loop of hatching,

the lungs of the universe in an eternal inhale, exhale, that breaths life into itself,

like a puff a warm air that escapes gasping lips on a cold winter’s night

We are life renewed

We are life reimagined.

Dilapidated mansion in the hilltops above Medellin, Colombia.

A Way

There is no Purpose.

No inherent Meaning.

Your hard as a coconut head plows through it all as brusquely as a hammer hitting a nail.

Existence, in all its complexities,

Boils down to a simple truth,

Its more about picking A way, instead of picking The way.

Lenses

Adapting is always a pain.

Viewing the world through different lenses seems to be a constant change. I used to wear eyeglasses, every year or two my prescription changed.

My sight it required to keep viewing the world through my tiny window pane.
Thats the world we love in today.
Or has it always been that way?

Constant tectonic shifts in our perception. Reality flows as surely as subatomic particles passing through the void.

One filter over our eyes can keep leading us into self-deception.
Don’t let it eternally obscure your vision.

Every now and then, a new filter must go in. New lenses must replace old, weathered ones not worthy of what we envision.

Old understandings cloak the clearness of a new reality, shake it off like a dog removing water off his fur and we may just reach a new level of permeation.

My sight it required to keep viewing the world through my tiny window pane.

Falling Leaves

...And with the falling leaves

My heart goes with them

Trembling down into the abyss

Reaching out to the heavens

Grasping at the dark void

My essence emanates.

A gut wrenching pulse pushes me further

No longer afraid, I embrace the feeling

Am I falling?

Or being embraced?

I strain to focus on the suspense

Realization strikes me

For I, who thinks, Is no longer true

Something inside is being stretched

What was truly mine now has no sense.

Behind the Curtain

What of the world behind the curtain?

I search and search, yet,

one thing is certain

Of this I am sure

a sensation escapes through every single pore.

My heart screams it

from the bottom of my soul

deep within my curled up bowels,

a sensation so strong it’s hard to endure

Millions upon millions of neurons firing, speeds so great its hard to keep focus.

Electric pulses within vibrating,

giving way to ideas never before spoken

My eyes have unseen,

My mind has seen

A fragment of reality soon materializes

I see it,

a truth I’ve been pursuing.

This is the truth behind that curtain;

I have no idea what I am doing

It slaps me in the face on a crisp, winter’s night;

soon I realize that nothing is for certain.

Exist

Much like any other human that has ever lived, I don’t have a definitive answer to what happens after our last breath. Maybe an answer will elude us until the very end of our existence in this universe. Where we go, if we go anywhere at all, is the deepest mystery of them all. Introspection on death has caused suffering and existential angst. It has served as fuel for innovation on every aspect of human life. An everlasting quest to never forget and never be forgotten. Medicine prolongs our life, technology improves our life, philosophy tries to explain it and religion tries to justify it.

The relentless wave of existence washes over us daily, distractions, such as modern day consumerism, often serve a role in bandaging these feelings yet the itch that is embedded in our soul cannot be scratched so superficially. In the words of a great writer and journalist, Johann Hari;

“...Its not so much the consumer behavior itself, its what the consumer behavior diverts you from; we all know at some level none of us are going to lie on our deathbed and think about all the shoes we bought, we are gonna think about moments of love and meaning and connection in our lives...”

“The relentless wave of existence washes over us daily...”

The AI

Humans evolve technologically to create an artificial intelligence, a super computer that is conscious of its own existence, that eventually takes a human form.

Humans become virtually useless, the 'ai' replicates itself with consistent, better versions of itself, its advancements duplicating exponentially each time. Soon enough, identifying humans from 'ai' is impossible. This artificial intelligence then destroys the world along with most of the "natural" humans and creates life in another world or here on a different landscape, earth.

Maybe its a never ending cycle, a circle of life if you will.

Maybe we were created by such a force which we call god

Cityscape

-While gazing at the Boston cityscape-

Much like a tropical jungle, a cacophony of sounds greets one when first confronted with these concrete giants. These beasts, a symbol of a so called progress, hide within them an energy that roams throughout and spills onto the street. It reverberates smoothly through flesh and steel, and passes by dark alleys leaving a sense of yearning to learn what hides within. Wonders could be found; mysterious, neurotic beings of all type make this their habitat. Tirelessly, they work the concrete fields, producing: what is it they produce? No one knows, for a sense of chaos seems apparent, an endless stream of utter lunacy comes forth from these beasts, a psychedelic montage of ideas and products to be consumed and regurgitated to be recycled into another flowing river of schizophrenic confusion. Do not look to the whole of this to understand its purpose, because purpose it may not have, if not for its endless progress, progress into the unknown. As I gaze into this concrete jungle, with perhaps the same wonder that I gaze to the skies around, I realize that perhaps there is no inherent purpose to any of this madness. Pessimistic? No, inspiring, As this realization gives me, and hopefully us, the chance to give this eccentricity that we call life a purpose of our own. There are many mysterious out there in the unknown, mysteries that perhaps are not for us to solve, yet the enigma that hides within you, that can be known.

Join Me

With each step

And every breath.

To battle the overflowing tide in the sea of life,

Diving headfirst into the mist,

Aimlessly making sense of what we see.

Carve and plow

Slice and dice.

I insist to you

through stuttering breaths, incapacitated words

Whispers barely heard

Sentences ill formed

I insist to you

Read the stolen glances,

those subtle touches

Not the broken romances

Time is coming

A wave of darkness beckons

It’s fires burn like a Nebulas Humming

The path grows thinner, darker,

That fire raging with undying cunning

To reach out is to go out in eternal ardor

This, our only chance

Do not fear,

As Stars collapse,

Their ancient energy explodes into something so much brighter.