i want this. but with three tips. and maybe in black and red. anyone want to make me one, or at least tell me where to get it?

there are so many ways to jump
the place between inhalation and exhalation
the exchange the shift the transition
the transition
the transition
high up in the air somewhere
between up and down
the up can be much greater than the down
or the other way round
leaping up a stone wall
jumping out of a skyscraper
euphoria takes over
while suspending in the air
the place of zero velocity
i feel grounded like a stone
that split second when i do not move
yet there is a history and an intention
the transition
moment i see so clearly where to go
exact same moment i see if i can make it
there are just two ways to jump really
two directions
either up
or down

no sleep. no desire to sleep. no desire to do anything nor to sleep. no desire to even try to do anything nor to sleep. no desire to even try to do anything to improve the situation nor to simply sleep. no desire to improve the situation nor to simply sleep. desire to the situation to simply sleep. to simply sleep. to simply sleep without being worried. to simply go to sleep without being worried about future obstacles. to simply forget about the world and go to sleep without being worried about obstacles. forget about the world and go to sleep without obstacles. forget about the world which is not yours and go to sleep without it. forget about the world which is not yours when all the people go to sleep without you. forget about the world which is not exactly something you can hide from because all the people sleep without you. about the world which is without you. the world is without you. without you there is not even a single bit of difference.

according to the lunar calendar today should be the day when the gates of hell is open and ghosts, spirits and whatnot will be roaming around up here. karma means something to them so being stuck in hell probably is not anything fun i guess.

they sing about a different tune but i never heard that tune.

cheese. cheese is strange. look at cream chesese, cottage cheese, feta and havarti. they are all chesses? come on. suddenly a voice in my head murmured, 'look at ol'george w., maradona, mao and yourself. you are all humans? come on.'

oh, oh, i got a good one.
whoever says this usually has driven the expectations too high. no matter how good the one is, telling someone your joke is going to be funny makes the best joke less than half as good. look- 'he made everything, he can do everything, he knows everything, he loves everyone, he helps everyone, he forgives everyone.' that sounds almost better than saying 'i got a good one. just wait till you hear about it. ready?'

no offense though.

answer my question. maybe instead of asking the others for answers, i should look for them myself.

the fuck i am talking about?
no. don't answer. i will look for the answer myself.

i will go on a contemplative hike in the woods. there will be a lot of trees and tweeting birds. a path will not be there but most places are accessible by foot. the hike will take a very long time. i will keep walking for years and years and i will grow old and still in search all these years. leaves will fall on me and rain will wet me. when i am sad mother nature will bring me lots of snowflakes to cheer me up. deers will hop around me. and i will sit down when my energy has depleted after the ninety-nine years of the contemplative hike in search of the answer. and soon i will keep walking on. during the short break i will grow feathers on my arm and they will become very strong. this is because mother nature knows i am too old and my legs are too tired. so she decided she will give me a lift. at first i will not be used to this because i have been a land creature all the ninety-nine years plus one year of the sitting break. but i will learn how to use the feathers properly. i will try my best to learn fast if i have to. i will glide along the lines of rainbows and i will take deers to the sky. but i will always remind myself of the real reason of the trip. i will always keep looking for the answer myself. i will always say to myself 'see that you do not go off the real track.' and one day i will be exhausted again. i will look down on the earth from high up the sky. and i will fly very close to the sun so my feathers will all fall off. this will let me go back to the ground. while falling i will ask mother nature to hold me in her arms so i do not have to go on my search anymore. it is because i will have no arms and no legs to use by then. most probably the sun will blind my eyes so i will not see anything. the burning feather will clog my nose so i will not smell anything. my ear drums will also break when i go high up in the sky so i will not hear anything. the heat will dry my throat so i will not say nor taste anything. then i will know the answer.

a wave goodbye

six little boys all six on fire
one with a halo one has broken wings
one disfigured one rather yellow
two are twins they are indeed
one will stay with me and all others free

that pile of broken messages
did not even get a chance
to reject to help with the wings
do not care what they say
see it with your own eyes
three eyes that are blind but will not turn

three red spirals spin deeper and further
into the heart of the eye
sixty four squares with seven pens
hop and shift places whenever nobody looks
endless noise with sixty one keys
three or four at a time or two or five or six

while my Nuoerosaurus chaganensis is obviously uninterested
my Dilophosaurus sinensis shouts at my Jinfengopteryx elegans
my Jinfengopteryx elegans yaks back at my Dilophosaurus sinensis
acting like one of those families those family-plus-one families
going at it since i brought them here

scratch marks on the hardwood floor
somebody was digging a desperate way out
with what still is a mystery
they all blamed it on the broken chair
always wondered if it feels any different
going out of a room through the wooden door
and through the glass window

there is someone to look forward to
so no glass windows no wooden doors
it is not much better outside the wooden door
just the same as outside the glass window
once again i draw my own door another door
yet another door through its gap i slip
without even waving goodbye
really i could not care less

Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Ludwig van Beethoven, Diego Maradona, Charlie Chaplin, Benjamin Franklin, Isaac Newton and Albert Einstein? All lefties. So am I.

Happy International Lefties' day.

i miss snow.

soon enough summer's going to end. there was a list i made up before summer and i wrote what i planned to accomplish during the inferno months. funny how nothing ever sticks to the plan. at least when it comes to stuff which is not a matter of life and death.

things that could have been done were started in a direction not so ideal so i picked another, and it was less far from expected but the real enlightenment came about 10 sessions after i actually started everything. maybe tom waits enlightened me actually. always remember, there is a difference between knowing it but not realizing you do and realizing you know it. amateur mistake. if i would have started it as something i actually want to accomplish instead of something to do in order to kill time it would have worked.

even mother nature can tell that. i used to get about everything i want from her. whenever snow is wanted badly enough snow will come. and the occasional sunshine wanted will usually be granted. here comes the problem- there has been no real rainstorms so far all summer. well one is supposed to be coming (or we are supposed to be in the middle of it) but, not what i have in mind. she gives only when you mean it. and don't think about taking it for the sake of taking it. it is mother nature you are dealing with.

all the wheels feet
short hair for men
and concrete stacks
flowing down the stream
babble rattle
babble rattle
somewhere labeled home
by unfamiliar eyes
everything is a big
icy glass of soda pop
children's favourite
in summer time
not a tooth's
for your information
even oxygen is toxic
put an oyster in vinegar
sure in vinegar it opens
it better does
and here comes the prize
the pearl is all that matters
the hollow eyes all wanted
the pearl of the pearl
vinegar is good
sour, packed, even bitter
and we all know
that there are no peals
of the pearl
icarus knew
the heat would melt his wings
he knew it
i know he did.


also think twice before eating your next bowl of shark fin soup. tom waits makes me want to smoke and drink in a couch in the middle of a raging snowstorm.

see that gust of powder far from red or golden. gullies and gullies of eyes jittery. all being pulled at once from all six directions in all dimensions. three petals and a sword they widen, widen and still widen. the expanding spiral majestic green-and-orange striped ray of sound, pigments spilling out between the teeth- tiny transparent hairs. each of them indulge in any colour they like. three of them, two hundred sixty four of them. vibrant smell of rosewood behind the snow dripping off each and every lash. bottomlessly brown bodies, slow and elegant- fluid and strong, light, very light. impossibly light. a step offbeat, a hop right on the next. the hair dyed green this time by an invisible army of invisible invisibles. crackles. ten thousand, ten ten thousand, ten ten thousand thousand ten old record player. flowery but brown horns crackling. very horny. he sobbed rather being a miserable something the not-so-miserable miserable would choose being nothing instead, like a gust of transparent powder. nothing transparent is ever really transparent. water, glass, crystal. crystals just have to include a slight fine touch of personality in their craft of shape shifting. indecisively confused about what to be. always in between, looking like a pair of wild wings soaring in the sky, merely looking like. at least they can look like anything without not looking like themselves anymore. the blind eyes always have a preset, default for how things should look like regardless of what they are actually made of. not even the blind eye. hearts, clubs, diamonds. and spades. a heart, a black heart upside down, stuck on a stick. a war? an assassination? an accident? maybe the owner deserved it. the lust to be a hero, to perform the act of justice the act of cleansing the act of guessing who has the black, rotten heart. the black heart always comes out in the end, from one or another. fool proof plan really. the striped kitten lays its innocent paws on something. a dirty thief. tappity tappity trippty klick. someone is tap dancing along the corridor about the castle. the corridor with water and the spade got the black fish. what a mistake to watch life like a black and white movie, it plays fine, it crackles still, it rises and sets, but red becomes dark grey almost black. the river hound's arsenal of ivory grinders. ivory rams step back and the rubies shine the colour of flesh. of lust. of desire. for anything. for pride for honour for instinct. the black fish is not black and the horny rams now bathe in the ribbons of wine. everything is forming a helix with the closest thing it can find. the black fish is red but ivory is now black. there is always a spade dealt in a game.