bliss

Bliss reminds me that I’m forgetting something

like a wool coating I knit for my frozen insides

I used to be super demanding, super solid

then one day I said “I don’t want to talk anymore, I just want to go out and have fun”

finally an undisturbed state of maturity and internalised hurt

and the night slowly crept inside me

“you only forgive people you don’t really depend on”

so the dependable cannot be forgiven while the unreliable cannot be but transient

and the trans of the transient prevails

and translates into bliss for a stable body temperature of below zero

but I wonder how can they not see

in such adverse body conditions how can one reject transient warm wooly bliss?

and how can we not see that the sum of many blissful encounters is a terrifyingly solid relationship with your favourite wooly jumper

a political act of reduced entropy

an eternal transient encounter with warmth

a war against a life full of small everyday doses of taxed conventional decay

I’ll take my decay warm and dadaist, thank you very much

Yoko Mabelle

You surrender to wear

like a comet entering the earth’s atmosphere

fading only for us to see a spectacular fall

and make a wish

You say that you’re not the truth

we are

but we wouldn’t have figured it out

without your unwritten poetry

without acknowlegement but for your anonymity

and the time-space you exist in

you know that’s more than enough – curving time

selflessly vibrating in a city that cares only for its darkness

horribly alone we were all brought together

by your vision of love

in a scene of time-space you always exist

for whoever wants to remember

and yet there’s so much more than poetry

the way you rub your body against ours when you want to be heard and felt

instantly there is queer edge felt across the smoky corners of the night

your abstractness pulling one out of the awe

strange science transformed into art

with a kitsch streak of disgusting adjectives

indicating a cultural reference of about 10000 years of human evolution

we couldn’t possibly get enough

you wouldn’t leave us anyway

or would you?

No one knows where you came from

what you left behind to be here

and what would make you leave again

One thing I know, if you left, you would do so without a trace

You try to fool us, but I’ve noticed every track you leave is subsequently erased

like a murdered who killed too many times to make a mistake now

you’ll kill yourself in the end

and you’ll be the only one who won’t be considered a suspect

I hereby immortalise you in a blog you are the only one who reads

Ha!

hurt

There is really no point in risking it

Once it happened, the fear follows you forever

or well, the survival instinct

In detecting dangerous levels of emotional involvement

and the emergence of reoccurring themes,

as brilliant as a person might be,

I immediately choose myself over the other person

It is not a direct act of selfishness

but an act of loyalty to anyone dependable

There is really no point in risking being hurt

It is a matter of logic…

1. Do not hurt a human through action or inaction
2. Obey orders given by humans unless in conflict with 1
3. Protect your own existence unless this conflicts 1 and 2

Aww how refreshing to be a robot!

 

black hole – white hole

floating in the black hole – lost track of time in here

lost track of memory

surrounded by an extremely dense mass and ruins from other planets which seem to have escaped

me, just a sparse planet

I used to take up as little space as possible, responsibly considering universal energy expenditure

orbiting peacefully with restrained ambition

just growing, meticulously evolving towards something better

I’ve been waiting to be spat out the other end any minute now

still in there though, feeding it laboriously with everything I’ve got

making sure it doesn’t collapse on itself

and instead of sparing me, the black hole just keeps getting bigger

I love everything about its massive presence and internal chaotic brilliance

but I’m getting tired and weary now of being carried along on this crazy orbit

not hoping I might be able to solve the mystery of the physical laws ruling it anymore

I know it’ll be a white hole some day soon

and all the things poured back into the universe will be the most precious things it didn’t know it was missing, more luminous than before

but hold on, did the others escape, were they spat out, or digested? I wonder…

astragal

A twisted ankle is always sign of a hesitant step taken towards an unsure direction of hypothetical state of freedom.