Bucket list v 1.0

“Pack it up pack it in

Let me begin”

I first wanted to make a list of things i can’t go without in life, and then maybe those that i sure as hell CAN go without. I went for a walk ‘coz it was one of those beautiful days where it’s not too hot not too cold, there’s light but no sun too bright to make my eyes hurt, and last but definitely not least, WIND! The iPod filled with the treasures I’ve recently re-discovered on my PC and through someone’s links (one of those people I’ve made a pocket for).

Here i go again deriving from the subject (it takes me a few paragraphs to get to the point, bear with me), now….where was i …? Ah yes (Moroes in Karazhan, for the connaisseurs). As i was saying, starting to organize into 2 lists those things i can do with or without, my mind shifted to those things i still want to do before i kick the bucket. I’ll come back later with the initial plan for this post, and write down my DOs and DON’Ts.

So here it is:

- Learn to play a musical instrument (those piano lessons when i was a teeny don’t count since i had a crush on the teacher and that’s the only reason i kept taking them)

- Find myself

- Find home (hopefully this will be scraped off once I’ve discovered who the fuck i am)

- Earn money with photography as a side-project

- Dye my hair blonde and make it work!

- Skydive

- Lesbians! (past 2nd base)

- See as much of the world as humanly possible

- Publish any of the things i call my art (maybe write “the best book in the world” as Severanus suggested :D )

- Drive a race car

- Learn to shoot a bow

- Live in another country at least temporarily

- Invent anything other than myself

- Have the most impressive collection of music known to man

I started writing this too long ago and i can already cross some of the things off that list. In order to keep it less edited, I’ll add new lines in future posts.

Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name.

As i call you by your name, i’m shamelessly attempting to define you, claim you, conjure you, to put order into the chaos that the lack of knowing is. Your name is the first thing that i use in my search for total domination of my personal universe with everything and everyone in it.
Ever since i met you, i’ve started my devious plan of placing you where i think you belong in relation to me. When i write your name in the many letters i’ve not sent yet, or say it in a conversation, or scream it during climax, or think it, i’m making you my own.
There’s a lot to be said on that start you’re given by someone else and the inspiration they use to give you that start. I won’t go into all that influences names, there’s wiki and a great amount of culture, spirituality, religion, discoveries to look into, but that is beside the point i’m trying to make.You either identify with it the more insights you have throughout your life, or you deny it and move away from it, changing it to better suit your persona. Your quest is still your own, but i get the result of it as soon as we come in contact.
Tell me your name so i can start containing you.

Nuke it. Break it. Stop it.

Burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it burn it

There’s this fire burning through everything i fucking come in contact with and it won’t go out, it won’t settle down, it’s won’t let up, it won’t let me. It won’t let me. It won’t let me. It won’t let me.
It’s burning holes in me faster than i can find patches for them, it’s making me more and more hollow, it’s consuming at me and around me.
Will
someone
just
fucking
stop
it

Molten Core

Wish i would’ve found the one saying “i think i love you” before you logged off.

Lately i dive really deep into craziness and it makes me remember.

Those three words i’ve never heard together

Before you made them in your mouth

Chewed them soft like sugarcane

Polished them with your tongue

Gave them to me and i swore i’d never get them lost

Is it how i can’t find sleep, or get fed, this thing you said?

Is it how i always see you in my head?

Is it how my innards tick at the sight of you?

Then, yes, i love you too.

(yes, i personalized the poem)

Rumors of surrealism

That inexplicably awkward feeling i get when insomnia and music generate a series of Stendhal Syndrome moments is what makes my existence worth streaming sometimes.
I wish i was able to invent some sort of projector that would replicate all of it.
I’d share the way smelling tea trees makes me feel, hearing music makes my chest hurt in the most amazing way, the lightheadedness and magic of closing my eyes and letting the endorphins rush through me over and over , the profoundest experience of ecstasy, that supreme degree of sensibility, until i’m so exhausted by the intensity of the euphoria, i feel like passing out.
I heard you know what tea trees smell like, and what beautiful music sounds like, but i want you to experience THIS. THIS result, magic, intensity, euphoria.

What else is there?

I think i might’ve lived my life already, i’m almost sure. In concentrated and overwhelming doses of everything that a person goes through an entire lifespan.
I have reached the point where i want nothing and wish for nothing. I don’t need anything. I’m just alive. This fact itself isn’t frustrating for me, because i’m numb. However, it is apparently very frustrating to those around me that seem to care, and in return they pour all of it back at me, maybe hoping that i’d stop frustrating them.
It took me 28 years to reach this point, will i be 56 when everyone will stop being frustrated?

Rain

I have these recurring deja-vus out of The Butterfly Effect of this scene taking place in the alley behind my building. I just walked through one on the way back from work today and, as always, i felt ageless for the nth time. Time hasn’t altered me or this deja-vu at all. Trees somehow haven’t grown taller, flowers still grow at the exact same places. It’s identical. I’m identical. I’m not aging as long as i have it. Even the rain today, the green, broken umbrella and the different song playing on my green i-phone haven’t changed the exact same feeling it gives me every single time.

Time stands still so often for me.

RPS

Years of choosing rock in any battle of senses. Got covered by paper which made all of my minerals disintegrate under its perfect and fragile surface. Lately it’s scissors. I make clean cuts, neat stitches.

Play with me.


No.9

Come to me now
And lay your hands over me
Even if it’s a lie
Say it will be alright
And i shall believe
Broken in 2
And i know you’re on to me
That i only come home
When i’m so all alone
But i do believe
That not everything is gonna be the way
You think it oughta be
Seems like everytime i try to make it right
It all comes down on me
Please say honestly you won’t give up on me
And i shall believe

 

 

It’s still there.