Capricious

80 - The Jigsaw

"Colour is a power which directly influences the soul."
- Wassily Kandinsky

Basking upon the window ledge, falling in love with myself, the luxury of my solitude, the cascade of beautiful thoughts. I rise up from the world, the simple understanding my perspective takes, lost in a sense of nihilistic nirvana, content with just being alive. Whatever paths through reality I take, an effervescent explorer of discovery, drunk on all beauties sensed and felt, collecting a wealth in experiences to satisfy my aching soul.

A surreal frame takes hold, breathing heavy in the night, a bridge between music and rain, amber on my breath. Revelling in amnesia l lose my mind, memories gleaming with layers of paint, nights stolen against my cries, haunted by subconscious dreams. Heart strings played to a soft melody, my song turns into snow, curling up into a ball, shivering with shadows that cling to my mind.

My mountainous mind begins to shake, crumbling to pieces with my life, confronting shadows of the day, and they too much to bear. Threats to understanding, shocking my restless philosophy, fragile darting thoughts scattered all around, and no purpose to draw them together. I need to slow down, escape from the chains of undesired commitment, yet I can't let go and escape into complete chaos, not with the consequences that would arise. As such I'm held back by myself, frustration toiling with foolishness, fault lines stirring in the deep, avalanches suffocating my mind.

Journeying between adventures like islands in the sea, dipping into desire around plagues of plain, worlds of magic where my soul rages free, peace from battles of mind that threaten to drive me insane. The conscious plane tires my heart, time better spent delving into living dreams, a higher state of subconscious art, losing myself in the deepest of themes.

A jigsaw of personalities, like pieces we fit together, weaving the fabric of our time into something ever so bright. Lovers of similar worlds, together we share the pillars of our identities, to experience so much more. She is food and I am travel. She is photography and I am writing. She is science and I am art. She is indie and I am electronic. She is tea and I am coffee. She is calm and I am chaos. Alone we are something, but together we are everything.

A new mix, entering the bitter of the night, all in the pursuit of the wondrous high. We stand in a circle, conversation playing free, cushioned by silence otherwise. In the back garden, joint passing round, lost in the feeling.

The charging thrill of cold, lost in a starry night, spells that can't quite take hold, yet mischief sparking bright.

Oh how I love the journey, being lost in an array of moments however fleeting. Travelling frees my mind, whether by car or train or coach or plane. It's in in the announcement of a departure, a rucksack on my shoulders, the endless fields passing by. It is chaos controlled, focused into discovery, excitement throwing a spring into every step. Times as far apart from routine as can be, a reflection of whatever lies upon the other side, the desire for new experience, my soul dancing all the while.

Clambering through the rocky outcrop at the edge of my will, approaching another crossroads of life, the currency of my person waiting to be spent, time expiring by. To all but enter the great unknown, a chaos that could throw me into any state, risk my life upon the roulette wheel, yet driven by potentialities that rain upon my dreams. Surely there might be more to my enlightening personality, possibilities yet unveiled, hidden by the mist of the future, and all that I do not know. Having to know the answer to everything, the overheating of conscious thought, tired of all the tragic noise, the voices that erase all sense of time. Just wanting to fall into oblivion, apart from commitment, apart from responsibility, apart from anxiety. Return to the great realm of pure discovery once more, carried by the waves, completely high at last, on the freedom of completely letting go. My soul yet remains devoured by a spectrum of light, too many colours scattered through my mind, too hard to distinguish the perfect shades, too little freedom to live through time.

The faded moon shadows my gaze, flames breathed gently against the air, ever wandering through my laboured maze, with all this mind that is mine to bear.

Wrapped up in mystical thought, a crisp plane smooth and steady, reminiscing of moments to dream and to invent, sailing on through experiences whole.

Wandering down the corridor, paintings and sculptures wherever my gaze does meet, each a world of talent and skill and dedication, insights into what the past wanted to remain eternal. Art is a window to the soul, every brush of paint, every curve of stone, pieced together to create an essence of life so long ago. It is all so much to take in, the energy of the beauty devoured by my soul, yet I drown in it from one to the next, for this is the height of personal experience.

But I don't want to give up the darkness yet, for its embrace is so warmth and so soft, not like the light that slowly blinds my mind.

Blissful in the night, bright up through dawn, a ghost of myself all day, rushing back to dusk.

I'm lost in a swirling sense of surreal suffering, adventures of my subconscious more brilliant than ever, yet I'm rooted in a marsh where my mind does rot, head polluted by plumes of toxic smoke. There is revolt through my soul, from diseases of life that bound us be, so I remain entirely electrified, lost from perfection but never to fail.

Drowning, a drop back into a primeval blaze, taking a eurythmic turn, subdued by a gluttonous cold. A blank slate cushioned with clouds, endless as far as I can feel, recovering now, in a chillwave dance of mind. I'm an otherworldly mess, making paw prints in the sand, convinced that this beach is a desert of scorching days and bitter nights, breathing free.

Drawn back by drifting memories, to a time of a fragmented soul, an utter storm of wild uncertainty, bathed in deep emotion. I would surrender to a song, let its magic absorb me whole, passion and despair ever holding hands, my forest burning to the ground. I lost my mind, devoid of purpose, unsure of who I was, taken by romantic daydreams that stole me away. Then slowly I began to rebuild, growing back from the ashes, my identity taking a brighter form, all illusions fading as I rise. Playing back in the real world, now all makes so much sense, with companions of a greater zeal, rich in relics discovered in my shadow. At peace with my mind, obsessions of exploration entail me now, at last an almighty dream to chase, hunting through the world for its wildest beauty.