Echoes

My mind echoes
like an empty room
like an empty metal box
millions of metal boxes
Layers..
Dimensions of metal boxes within each other
Like a loop hole
Endlessly shrinking onto itself
Closing..
Eating me..
Eating my voice in repetition
In glory..
Singing my madness
In layers of incomprehensible sounds

Fragments of Existence

Why so mysterious? Why don't you tell us the truth? Why are you distant? Why do you separate yourself from your surrounding? Why do you disappear the way you do? Why don't you explain!
Why don't you just say things the way they are... Why do you care about the consequences of defying the norm... Why have a problem with being misunderstood....
Why am I what I am?

I tell her; Mother...

Timeless

If man had the time, man wouldn't be ignorant. Yes, Lack of time is ignorance, and time is the root upon which knowledge flourishes. Knowledge that has always been associated with the elderly, with the wise ones, the ones that have had the most time to understand what they need to understand. And what i fear nowadays, this may no longer be applicable, for time has been escaping us..

Post-midnight thoughts

It always starts and ends in the same way.. every time she'd been given the opportunity to be in her own thoughts, just for a little while, when she thinks and ponders over matters. It always ended up being about him. She definitely thinks about him more than she has thought of others before him.. That in itself, gave her reason to think about whether this was something worth a while. Was he "the one" that we hear about all our lives.. the one we've been promised by too many people, that's there's someone, somewhere out there, who's perfectly fit for you, and only you.. that there's a certain somebody for everybody..

my teacher told me

Once upon a time, my teacher took me aside and told me that life was not a book you can learn behind your desk, life was a jungle waiting to be explored.
He told me, go on, fly away, explore, learn how to live.. For what makes a person, is his experience in life and his knowledge.. what will your art speak of? the common life of a human, or your typical family issues?

Convinced, i packed my things and went on an exploration trip in the most uncommon places you'll ever think of looking for me in.. i roamed and roamed.. and when i got back to my teacher, filled with pride, i awaited him to speak..
He took me aside, and he told me; you can't abuse life like that.. take it slow and step by step.. take this book, and sit behind your desk..