It is raining outside in the dimly lit square, my mind fills with thoughts but they are not the usual thoughts; while she walks her streets I don’t follow her and take other routes, I’m here but I could be somewhere else, anywhere else away from here.
My body is here, but I’m on another side, who can I tell it?
Here in the room, with me, there are others, there are many writing verses and maybe I am not among those, I am elsewhere; it is a known journey, a recurring tantra, a persistent dream.
I walk around the room but it is only my body that does it, I look out of the window but it is not me who observes, I move my fingers but it is not me writing something, I am seeing things happen without effort.
Joking … I’m just kidding.
Blue, acacia, orange, love, blue, wind, light, sound, life, time, immense, eternity, music, peace, wings, flight … us and them. Are there different levels associated with diverse perceptions?
Are we sure we perceive everything we see, or else, there is much more?
While I am here can I also be elsewhere?
Joking, it’s just a joke… only a joke.
The wind rises, and the rain beats against the windows, maybe I’m too complicated even for myself. Mine is a zodiac sign “with a very complicated emotional nature, a sensuality that depends totally on imagination”.
Now I’ll stop and I’ll rewind everything, I have to keep control but sometimes the mechanism gets stuck, there is a mistake, a ripple… I was born there.
