~ merry christmas, mr ~

the face of david. a head of moony, desaturated gold. over the surface of sand. a white moth landing on an eyebrow. stay.

you are the victim of men who think that they're right

hara-san.

merry christmas. quite reversely, as the last hours have taken away the only day of this year that i've beem waiting for. a story for which my heart thirsts. a feeling of haven, even if temporary. quite ironically, because the christmas was snowless, and now it's snowing over the roofs of oslo. gentle snowflakes, falling in peace, free from haste, making me believe that falling can be a flight, sometimes. i raise my blick over the screen, glimpse into the window. across the street - a lamplit office. a man working overtime, all eyes on his computer. a governmental departement. a man that has never cried. never from his very core.

flicker, do you know. there are tears so hot that they never reach the ground

space is only noise, if you can see

but will there be an echo

~ ziggy sundust ~

poetry is born from insecurity

there is something in this sentence but i remain distrustful. last night there was a full moon over the hospital. i had this extremely vivid dream, with dark oak wood, library, naked skin, and a voice, a calling. i woke up and read. then caught a glimpse of sleeping v. and in a short while i saw a deamon in the scarce sunlight. i blinked - it was gone but i remembered his arm. i grabbed the pencils. the sound of paper and graphite. cars passing. a new day.

a sketch. a beauty of imperfection. an energy of temporarity.
soft graphite. hard sunlight.

~ transit oddity ~

do i come from age that wasn't
do i belong to age that will never be

i'm living on. waiting for water to have taste again.
wandering around oslo in search for signs. found one in a twisted antique shop today - a half face of a man who sold the world, now he watches over me from my own wall.
somehow, it corresponds with the latest days when i walk around and recognize nothing. i've lost my comprehension of this world. living with a cruel insight that if people are apart, it's often not because they don't love each other but because they are on different levels of existence.

but we are all lifts
here, to balance and launch each other

so why not?
why deny the absolute for movable things?