If you think and take it out of context

…there are no details, just unvoiced spots

There are no mirrors to evaluate yourself

nor ambiguous faces to assemble your life on.

There are blurry grey balloons or

one season for the four now.


Looking from a top, there’s no water

merely smoke, no people in sight, purely lost ants

circling around a ball.

There is no feeling, all beauty vanishes.

Now, “look for inside persona”, what’s that?

Where are we? And what the hell is going on?

What has she done to go so high,

where nothingness prevails taking ripeness as it is.

What’s life? Yeah, right!

Where are the colours? That might work.

Fading to black, then merely a white spot of spacious warmth.

Pardon me, no heat…stillness, peace and lack of desperation.


Friday, 1a April 2008

12:21:15