Flowing Through Consciousness

By: Natasha Aidoo

memories from english literature lessons. dubliners. James Joyce. i wish i could go to Ireland. take a trip into the vast green and absorb nature. make it a part of me. marvel at the rolling sound of their accent. forget to go back home and stay longer than i planned. seagulls on the run. they took my joy and now they store it in their beaks. radiohead. a song from their album king of limbs. morning mr. magpie. thieves or borrowers? who can tell? the intention or the result? how circumstances change, flow and transform environment. keep your shoes untied. you never know when it's time to take off. to depart. to let go. to disappear. but maybe you won't need your shoes after all. i unravel under the pressure of my self-made expectations. maybe not completely my sole responsibility. otherwise what is left to learn. in the pursuit of nothingness. meditate on the cosmic energy that is following us through the passage of time. that envelops us. in a warm embrace. invisible and yet tangible as me and you. suns have been drowning in my backyard. my neighbors welcome the novelty with starry eyes. they are fascinated by the mysterious dynamics behind existence. last week we met and discussed about philosophical enquiries. nothing much, just the usual reflections speculations conceptual labyrinths regarding the experience on this planet. stuck in the process of questioning doubting and finding unsatisfactory answers to all the mental work. activities

 in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop in a loop. 

broken record. before it could be played on my non-existing turntable. as real as i imagined it would be. hold on to these those desires that ignite your soul and make you so enthusiastic about such precious gems. forgetting about them and then being struck by them like lightning. it's a cardiac storm. words flicker in the dark. not like stars, my beloved. but like beacons that shine here and just now. not deriving from the past. no time-space machines. 

e n t r o p y is such a beautifully crafted concept. physics for my liking. hours spent without fully understanding mechanisms underneath life. below the surface it's magic. witches gather for a happy hour. scary is how having power control surrounded by unknown mystery has made makes oppressive systems uncomfortable uneasy on edge. revolutions that simmer in the daylight. night-time is what i breathe. with wild eyes i perform feats of imagination creativity folly. hues of regret escape from her window in an attempt to reduce the weight on her mind. winged bricks of risks not-taken-for fear. demon in disguise. i will hunt you down and make you pay for it. all of it. what? everything. in the feverish dream he plays a game my sister invented just for me. mixing music with distance is a recipe for adventure. sunlight is what i hold onto. a good morning that makes it less hard to deal with the confinement. outdoors become a mirage. today closer than the day before. concrete is still to be proven. little cut-out-moments of peace made of rites rituals rites rituals rites rituals that sprinkle calm on my head in my soul. the perfume of notes from 1972 fills the kitchen. i travel to Ethiopia in a glimpse. simulation with a glitch. oh, high school soundtracks. take a bit of nostalgia and a bite of melancholia. they taste rather interesting together. don't linger. don't overstay no one's welcome. camping in bed. dimensions unfold in the four walls. which tumble down with a kick. erase the barriers. dismantle with rage. reconstruct with grace. compassion to be found among flowers. photos stuck to my fingertips. anxious to set indefinite ideas free. from cages. take charge. explore gardens in ruin. castles in the sky. japanese masterpieces i will go back to again and again. distract me for a while, i can manage. temporarily. like life. fleeting ethereal ephemeral. goosebumps. unexplained phenomena. plurals from latin. inscriptions on the floor of a medieval cathedral i find my feet take me to with no warning nor announcement. unprecedented awe assumes form. i'll listen to that record  in a few months. on my birthday. to mark a special event. not ready yet. sometimes i feel as i will ever be. wrong. mistaken. imprecise. details are what matter. friends met in a dream. chaos to be confronted with once awaken. dawn is so distant from me. we once were close. things change. fluidity of reality. melting in the microwave. marrows in the ocean. sea shells in my living room. souvenirs from someone i don't know. slipping on the granite. ice is red. colours fry in the pan. cooking for the past ten years is somehow accurate. disasters sided with excellency. a swing into strawberry lakes. finally i've typed the recurring vision. relief instead of frustration. singalong in the dark-ness. exist. exit the stage. the performance that you've long awaited. standing ovation for an actress. her efforts have been recognized. a show to be talked about. analyzed. dissected like an experiment. hypothesis from ancient laboratories. fish to be marveled at. at noon i cross the path. grass has switched places with the sky. clouds to step on. puffy fluffy cozy bouncy surfaces made of water. unbelievable truths run after the unassuming. faceless individuals. unfinished business. two versions. equally pleasing. to the past version of someone i know. deeply. and yet in the constant process of discovering. explorer of the self. entities that float. reveal the facade. it's obviously a mask. oblivion comes in waves. washing away what it finds on its path. fresh beginnings and blue beaches. transparency doesn't exist. translucent alliterations. popping up at a party. house in a bubble of sounds laughters colours. i feel safe. field of poppies. complementary chromatic combinations. explosions of spring. in bloom. nirvana.