To convert a continuous function of space of time into a discreet function of space and time... a wave, a signal, science, certainty, decipherable
...to break a big story, into smaller ones and choose from that your own...waves too slippery, signals too mixed up, science too poetic, certainty only of being undecipherable.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Ellipsis
It's one of those days when i have nothing to say, but i must say something because
i've spoken too much.
To the point where all that you speak becomes a distorted drone to your own ears the moment it escapes you. It's happening often these days, i am realizing the senselessness of me.
It's a sick thing being self righteous, its an amazing thing being put into your place by a dream. Illogical play of colourless shadows, vague faces, no plot, no climax. distinct enough to make you scared, even of yourself. It's amazing.
from a film:
To Luciano,
because we are also all that we lose.
i was thinking of all that i am about to lose, want to lose
will it become me at a later time? Will i become that?
...
Come, come, whoever you are.
Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow
a thousand times
Come, yet again, come, come.
- Rumi
i've spoken too much.
To the point where all that you speak becomes a distorted drone to your own ears the moment it escapes you. It's happening often these days, i am realizing the senselessness of me.
It's a sick thing being self righteous, its an amazing thing being put into your place by a dream. Illogical play of colourless shadows, vague faces, no plot, no climax. distinct enough to make you scared, even of yourself. It's amazing.
from a film:
To Luciano,
because we are also all that we lose.
i was thinking of all that i am about to lose, want to lose
will it become me at a later time? Will i become that?
...
Come, come, whoever you are.
Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow
a thousand times
Come, yet again, come, come.
- Rumi
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)