The Monkey Mind

(PC: The Dews Mist 2018, Catherine Hyde) Winter. True winter is here. Each day shorter and every night longer than the last, painstakingly longer. A while ago, the air which was, as gentle as a lady's smile and as warm as mother's embrace, is no more. In minutes it has dropped to such low, its glancing caress leaves one, shuddering, with a profound sensation of imprinted memory; bone-chilling like needles stabbing through skin reaching to the very depth of the bones, stabbing and stabbing, without mercy. Cold i.e. colder, with heaviness such, not pre-existing, the fragile human body shivers trying to conserve as much warmth as possible, enduring that chilling sensation, yet, barely. The ears ring continuously inside, with a throb, then another, reminding with each of its beat, the cruel reality wherein living needs to struggle, perhaps selfishly, just to survive, day by day, moment by moment, always. Under the mercy of intermittent gusts, the canines growl in one corner and the

Introduction As we drift away in the embrace of sleep, our consciousness retreats, the body rests and the mind relaxes to find solace in the warm embrace of dreams. As each breath recedes deeper than the previous, the feeling of freedom gently unravels, as if the dawn makes way to the first ray of sun, bringing light and warmth to the dark-cold earth, waking up all the living of the day... finally ...  Deeper and deeper, letting go of worries and uncertainties of the harsh reality, no more is the commuter constrained or restricted, dreams give way to imagination whereby we pass through the darkest black hole to the brightest star, galaxy after galaxy, universe after universe, the mysteries lay bare to the mind that perceives beyond the awareness of the five senses. We see the reality with the eyes of a child, hear with the ears of a newborn, feel with the hands of dreamers embracing each fascinating sensation, without critical mind, just being true with self, one with every moment. We

Emily Holzer · Robert Schumann - Träumerei (dreaming)   " Grief. No words can define it or phrase the meaning. Only when an immeasurable loss shatters our mind, our 'self' submerges in the very depth of personal hell, then, we are one with grief. Memories of the past increasingly assault our vulnerable minds time and again, until something vital breaks inside of us. We lay there broken, submerged in the personal reality. Time is timeless. The world is colorless.  Food loses taste, dreams turn to nightmares, emotions become chaotic and everything worth counting on is worthless.  Nothing matters anymore. Only memories of past, they come and go as guest uninvited.  As rivulets of saltiness overflow from the very windows to the soul, we become numb, desensitized, until, we reach void, the complete silence. Little by little we start to understand what is important. We realize how lonely we are even in the midst of well-wishers, how mortal our body is, how short life can be..

reminiscence · Chopin – Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2     "Stop dreaming, and you will have nothing but hands to swipe away your tears..." Dreams are hopes and aspirations we treasure, perhaps more than ourselves. In the quietness of the night when all the living sleep, they come to life. The sub-conscious comes to play in the field of the mind. Without trying, we weave ideas within ideas, the magical universe of dreams, man has so imagined, but could not make it real, is the sanctuary without limit man imposed on the self. Like butterflies, the Deja-vu flashes by amidst the fragrant flowers of memories no more submerged in the depth of mind. Time is irrelevant. Only imagination is. It is the key to unlock the door of impossibility. Beyond their lives only treasured moments. And as we come to the surface of consciousness, we try to grasp that. But that is forgotten as we force the self to immerse itself in the mundane. Forgotten but not forever for they live on when we dream again. D

 It is natural to be attracted to the opposite sex. That is what we call "crush" And when we go further it becomes "relationship" A feeling of connection and companionship exists. The relationship is the beginning of a serious aspect of life that either pulls someone to madness or pushes them to the top.  Going further or be back to safety it is unto the seeker.  When love comes knocking, it feels like the whole world is with you or against you. Your so-called love takes all the mental space and does away all the physical needs; hunger, thirst, sleep, and the very reason why you are alive, willing to live. That is the heart talking if the heart could so speak.  But, if we take a moment. Reflect all our feelings in the cold rationale. It is untrue, the world does not care. The one whom you have feelings for may never look at you. Until you confess. Confess with all the courage you could muster.  Imagine, you are the girl. How would you feel when someone suddenly come

I n the depth of my soul a memory lingers on indomitable, unconquerable the supreme divine vehicle' that faith has born to such height no fall so hard will disgrace it no sins will degrade its pure light for it is, what makes me want to live' the burning passion, sister of blood that connects every man, every woman, every child undeniable heritage so old red red and red when cut with knife' proof that is before your eyes we will be, what we need to be when time comes for us to defy injustice, and sufferings burning' the conscience man hold so supreme despite mortality despite every survival instinct hold on, to the piece of yourself he tells his mind so body follows with unparalleled might Invictus! Invictus! vivere... (PC:  https://www.borisjulie.com/product/invictus/ )