The Monkey Mind

Absence. It exists. Lurking in-between thoughts and actions, anchored under the shadow of moments time passes on, it oscillates in each breath. Breathing; in possibilities, out disappointments; what could have been and what could not.                                                                                                                                                                 (PC:scott c.) Unstoppable.  Like it's nothing, it intrudes. It rebels, it declares guerilla war against the might of structural mundanity, the ordinary. That ordinary which we resist not, accept yet unwillingly, with a sense of inevitable helplessness. Yet, the feeling of sheer absence even inundates the inexorable inevitability. Escape. Desperation burns with each ticking of the clock, we cannot bottle it up inside our self. So, we search, and as we search, for our true self, which in the past was sidelined for the sake of a future which promised "milk and honey", we are made aware o

 The world we perceive, understand, and interact with, has as many interpretations and their understanding as to the people who live on the planet. We see, hear, smell, and feel the fabric of reality around and within us through our dynamic senses. Yet perceiving and interpreting reality into a coherent and cohesive understanding is difficult but not impossible. As such, what we know or believe we know and its further interpretation and communication require discipline, the disciple of writing.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 (PC: Le Parche Edizioni) Writing. It means bringing together chaotic thoughts into a harmonious order, an order whose practice is at first excruciating. It represents being passive in a physical space, letting the mind discover and find the suitable headspace

The Ideal Light "Like a moth drawn to the flame, we gravitate towards the light..."                                                                                              (PC:  https://www.pinterest.com/pin/436356651378415164/) Why do we do what we do ? Why do we admire beauty ? And in that sense what is beautiful ?   With light, we see the world, its richness witnessed by a spirit of naive wonder untainted by desires. Desires are natural to the majority of humans yet they envoke possessiveness which prevents the admirer to enjoy the moment. Thus, it is said "to desire is to suffer"  And suffering starts and continues when:  "We want what we can never have" and "even if we think we do, time disillusion us of our folly..." Besides the basics that cater to our survival, there are things that we need, to reaffirm our reason for existence. It is the instinct of living to evolve; to pass the legacy that we have inherited and that which we have a

 "...  happiness is the greatest desire humanity has craved to experience .."  An ornithologist may spend days, weeks, and months in a  mosquito-infested humid swamp just to capture a glance of an exotic avian. As such, luck plays a major role defined by his or her redeeming personal qualities and environmental viability that invites or prevents the entry from the much sought avian, leading to the momentous happiness or disappointment/depression for the ornithologist. As no man, woman or living beings are the same, the vocation such as ornithologists, for many is highly undesirable. Yet for a few, such professions is a chance in a lifetime, to understand a niche of the world, just waiting to be discovered. Like any experience, one has so imagined or been through, happiness is one that is the most unforgettably subjective.                                                                                                          (PC:https://www.pinterest.com/pin/14636705662927879

 Life. It is a journey and what a journey it is!  Tragic in its seriousness and funny in its triviality We search to discover meanings within, from truths we find outside, their nature unique  Either disappointed or jubilant, our mind lingers in differences This difference between inside and outside, of what was and what is, as such,   ... a continuous dialogue between ourselves flows; in between the soul and the body. In between truth and feelings, it envokes. As such the truths change but feeling remains  Without words; in the language of life and its silent undercurrents A harmonious rhythm propels us, our soul and body symbiotic, as we wade through the chaos of the world, together. What does the mind do ? It thinks as it should but it is the heart that talks. It is not the physical but that transcendental heart that houses the humane soul, from where kindness spring forth naturally  As naturally as the smile when we wake up full of hope for the coming day As naturally as the smile

Lately, the rain has become strange! As I travel, the sky is open, then as I pass a street, suddenly it starts to get dark, the wind blows and it starts to rain  So, I quicken my footsteps, with an urgency to reach the destination sooner, to prevent myself from being cold, and wet Another street passes by and lo behold! the clouds retreat, carried away by the wind, no more it rains... There is no consistency, no surety in the life, as the second tickle by, there are so many things that are beyond our control, except death, that is the finality That finality is what compels us, moves us. to act, to brave the ocean. The ocean that we know deep down inside, we may not be able to cross. Perhaps, this flesh and bones will melt away, before we reach the shore on the other side. Like those before us, we pray solemnly to the gods, those known and unknown, but when as usual they are deaf to our plea we can only turn to the gods that live within us, the breath in our body, the sanctity in our so

 "...the gentle rain splattering on the pavements  and the sun playing hide and seek between the clouds as an observer, in the stillness of the moment it dawned to me, at this moment, the future is now..." Future. It is always about hope. Even the most unlucky, the unloved, the loser, has hope The reason? Because we do not know what it is, its manifestation in its entirety we have a hunch if we are instinctive we have a goal if we are an achiever and if we are dreamers, we simply dream, embracing the so-called whisps of lightness, nature has bestowed upon us, going with the flow, onwards, in the imagination of the subconscious, fueling our creations through art, trying to paint the reflection of the majesty we have perceived as best as possible... But if we believe, the future is tomorrow, something that will happen, soon...  that time will only tell,  we will only keep on hoping, never to realize what we truly are striving for, if we only look towards the horizon before grou