Capricious

76 - Tree of Knowledge

"All negativity is caused by an accumulation of psychological time and denial of the present. Unease, anxiety, tension, stress, worry - all forms of fear - are caused by too much future, and not enough presence. Guilt, regret, resentment, grievances, sadness, bitterness, and all forms of nonforgiveness are caused by too much past, and not enough presence."
- Eckhart Tolle

A summer of randomness beginning to play, with comfortable strangers high in the park, chances to explore stirring encounters new, on to harness the moment for all it can be.

Trying to bend back into the themes of existence, distract myself from the holes in my mind that drain me of life, for no matter how I tame my philosophy, still invisible barriers of communication lay hidden somewhere. I cannot break through this biological ache, instead drawn by contradictory desires, lost in exhausting encounters, novelty the only grace, played in the safest way. I lose, buried again, lost again, wasting away, for I have acquired just enough, there are no paths left for me, I have ended.

The mind sleeps, the soul awakens, to think deeper, but remember not.

With that air of the untouchable, intelligence my shield, now a dagger bitter and sharp, stabbing in full sight. Only scratches are made, defenceless I am left, pain leading the blades to grow, then shrink with every burst or fright.

A spray of moondust, a scatter of moonstone, a stream of moonlight, painting ladders on the wall. Tremors in the sky, with round iridescent glows, heating up the flaking clouds, twilight dying into night.

Senses delightfully torn in a multitude of ways, as my ideologies tremble under perilous truths, floating clear in a purgatorial bubble, wondering where to burst out.

Parties drifting along in a lake of mind, blood red roses sucked through numbing lips, a farmer harvesting all discoveries I find, drinking the juices of its fruit in ravenous sips. A doomed retreat from the knowledge tree, thoughts breeding without control, galloping brisk out of fields unable to see, plagued by realisations born from all I stole.

There is no way, to break otherwise endless cycles, evolving into oblivion, else wiped out by those that do. These flavours of mind dissolving meaning or purpose, how am I supposed to think now, how do I forge a sense of justice from this insanity? Beauty of the present descended from untold millennia of suffering, masked by the temporary nature of time, speeding up with no way to slow, justifying the past for a future that just becomes past.

Then set by an extinction of the mind, haunted by the totality of death, so envious of drama to not be ordinary, a need for meaning or purpose, else it means nothing at all.

I'm so scared, of threats to my existence, lost in unwanted addictions, anxieties of moments passed, cringes of pain torturing my already fragile mind. Then foresighted struggles of future wars, the pains of existence, the raging within my head, mental attacks feasting on all I know. I try to ignore it, get lost in the present, or distracting dramas with a kinder touch, yet overblown my corpse stops working, glitching in mistakes, ready to return to realms of peace. I just want to be pulled away, in any way, so a token is paid, and high I draw myself back to the present. Lost for the time that I have, squeezed between hours like fish in a net, a mind's hibernation from the outside world.

In the heart of the night, wrapped in gorgeous silks so green, an owl's reflection in the pool, dwelling in the garden growth. Yawns cry aloud to bury my soul, blossoming in the summer cool, what colour dare I choose now, to paint the deep grey sky.