The Mind's Garden
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Rest in Peace,
oh glorious thoughts which once deceived
curse be thy past,
you, which relinquishes my thoughts
my persona
now gone, with my memories,
dead, long in the past
never to be remembered once again
Oh but what a tragedy! The thoughts I once had are now long gone indeed!--- jose vasquez
Everyday we have a new thought. A new idea. A new beautiful thinking. Unfortunately, the majority of them are all forgotten. I bet you are thinking of something wonderful right now, or something tragic, but nevertheless, no matter how much we want it to stay, it will all be gone the next morning. Now wonder I cannot remember the beautiful thoughts which circulated my minds 10 years ago! Only a tiny spark of it remains in my consciousness! Almost none make it to the long term memory!
EDIT: If anyone encounters logical fallacies, I wrote this a long time ago.
-- just a book of different beliefs, of different thoughts on how to look at the world.
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Book One: Pandora
Peace. Peace is subjective. If one were to truly think about it, peace is not possible without the suppression of something. While this sounds bad on the surface, there is a reasonable justification for such a thought. The world rightfully chose to suppress the wrongful urges within us because we knew that it would bring us peace. The past is simply a reminder of the repressed darkness within, and, with such erased from our minds, we have no presumptions made towards one another; we are in peace. When those come against our peaceful ways, they too must be suppressed. But who decides what is darkness and what is not? Who decides what should be suppressed?Compleet
Diary of a Lightworker
At age 12, I looked into a tall antique mirror- it was the first time I had a notion that my brain and my soul are separate things- Consciousness. Who is this person looking at me in the mirror? her eyes are brown, she is smiling.. why is she smiling? why is she sad? at times her eyes are empty- who is she? or who is? Why is it looking at me in the mirror? why don't I feel that we are One? Earth is not Home. This is becoming apparent each day, if it was, it would be a whirlwind of crazy, but the earth is a good training ground, in here are clues that we need to pick up. If you interact with humans you would know that you won't be able to understand them. Like fish taken out of the water- Humans are energy suckers- they will take everything from you if you don't learn how to shield and put boundaries- this is because most are sleeping- their eyes are shut- the real one-Compleet
--Bridges--
One of the favourite lessons reading books has taught me is that you're never alone, not alteast in thoughts and words. There are others who think like you, feel like you and react like you. It's like that sometimes, our unspoken thoughts are the bridges that connect us, even though we might be miles apart. And so, I've written them down in the hope that there are many out there in this world who would be willing to walk these bridges leading to me-the real, raw and unhidden self I am- my heart and mind and soul. And I really want to walk over to your side and feel what you are like. You are the one to decide whether you want to build 'em or not... ----------------- Cover by me! None of the media used in this book belongs to me.Compleet
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+
✧ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐘𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈 (𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍) ✧ When I was six I was kidnapped and taken away from my family for seven months. Thirteen years later and I have little to no memory of who had taken me. Ever since then my father has been severely overprotective and never lets me out of his sight. Now that I'm somewhat on my own everything starts to change. When I finish high school and start attending New York University my life takes a turn, for better and for worse. They're back. ☆ 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 ☆ Years ago we found our little angel. She just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was the light in our lives, until one day we lost her again. Thirteen years later and we still mourn the loss of our sweetheart, but we found her once, we will do it again. I am the head of the Russian mafia, or a professor at NYU depending who you ask. One day I raise my head to look around at the sea of students and my eyes lock on a familiar pair of ocean blue irises. ★ 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐋 ★ I'm a heartless killer and offer no apologies for it. As the head of the Russian mafia along with being the CEO to a multibillion dollar company, my life is nothing but darkness. During the day I'm an office man, at night my knife slashes through the necks of anyone I can get my hands on. Killing is my outlet, ever since I lost her. It helps me keep my anger in check. I've never stopped looking for her. We've come close multiple times, but each time came out unsuccessful. As I put a bullet in the head of my ex-guard, Alex comes rushing into the room, and the look on his face says it all. He found her. Start: July 4th End: ///
paracosm-delusional nightmares
{poetry : completed} "𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞." in a tiny corner of the world, but in the vast corner of my imagination, this is my paracosmic delusion, something that i've created out of indignant, dejected and euphoric emotions. each word in this book constitutes my delusional nightmares, the ones that i know aren't really there yet i write about them anyway. this is me, my barest and deepest feelings, and my monstrous thoughts. ✦✦✦ [all rights reserved | ©2021 ] [ cover designed by me ] [ peace \/ ]Compleet
𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭| 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 |𝟏𝟖+
**𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳** Panic surges through me, and before I know it, I'm turning on my heel, trying to run, to escape the impending punishment. I barely make it a few steps before I feel his hand clamp down on my hair, yanking me back with terrifying force. "Going somewhere, little girl?" "P-please let g- ahh! Please! H-Hurts me!" "Afraid, are we now, baby?" His voice is a snarl now, filled with fury. "L-leave m-me," tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I'm scared of him, scared of what he'll do to my friend, scared of what he'll do to me. His grip on my hair tightens and I wince, choking back a sob. "Oh, why? Don't you like my hands on you, baby?" He mocks hurt that instantly turns back into anger. "But you were fine when that fucker touched you, ain't that right?" Then he pulls a silver knife out of his suit, twirling it lazily between his ink-covered knuckles and my blood freezes at the sight of that psychotic grin. ***** People quaked with fear at the sound of his name and me along with them. He was Demetrios 'the God' Nikolayev and he was first in command of Russian mafia. He was a true psychopath who enjoyed hurting people, and I hated him for that. The worst thing - he owned me. "Try to accept the darkness, because from now on, it will be your only light." I tried so hard, but I couldn't understand it back then. How possibly can darkness be light? ***** This is not a vanilla romance but a dark, toxic, perverted, obsessive story. The book contains mature themes such as foul language, bdsm, sexual and abusive content, kinks, blood, manipulation, etc. Please keep that in mind.
The Five Stages of Transition: From deception to liberty
The miracle is present, next to and within you. The miracle is you. When you write poetry you hide in a bottle a message written on paper. Then you ship it in the ocean and you let it travel across the world. One day, somebody may graciously find it below a steep rock on the beach and be curious enough to open it. Then he will read the message enclosed. For poetry time is irrelevant and to be specific this poetry has defied time and difficulties. The first chapter 'Crash the Idols' is a sociological approach in the poetry of the dogma, VERITAS (Latin meaning of truth), and images that society encourages people to believe. Are these true, do they have any meaning at all? Or they are just hallucinations of the society of consumption? The second chapter 'The transformations of Vishnu' is a reference to the changes of Vishnu into different forms and existences according to Indian scripts. We are subject to a continuous and ruthless change, since the time we were born. This change is considered a determining factor of survivorship. The 'Myth story of an adventurer' is wandering in the ascetic communities of Mount Athos with a history of more than 1000 years. The incessant seeking of light and freedom is a driving force of interpreting modern life with a more charismatic byzantine approach, in regards to philosophy and theology. 'Dialogues of Despair' is a modern song of songs, where contradictory powers clash and the winner is thirst. Thirst for life and Thirst for Knowledge. Thirst of Love and Thirst for Sacrifice. 'The Silent Time of mysticism' is about the inexplicable echo of our memories, our faith, our emotions, and death right in the corner. The understanding of our Being is an understanding of the Collective Being and contribution to that.Compleet
In The Shambles
Beyond every level of her mind knew something or someone had overstepped or overstayed their welcome. She thought of nothing else for the longest, she pondered, she contemplated, she thought and yet.....nothing, nothing made sense. Or did it? In the many days that passed, the poor and desolate young woman lost herself, regained herself, forgotten herself, remembered herself, starved herself, fed herself, formulated her existence and yet shattered herself; in what was an attempt to heal, such futility is frowned upon. Truth What was truth? Was it something she even had knowledge of anymore? Though she functioned on a seemingly normal level to the onlooking eyes of the world around her, little wisdom had they on the onslaught of her own mind against herself. Self...? What was the self to her anymore? And so again, she got lost.......lost in her own thoughts. Or memory.......Compleet
Peace. Peace is subjective. If one were to truly think about it, peace is not possible without the suppression of something. While this sounds bad on the surface, there is a reasonable justification for such a thought. The world rightfully chose to suppress the wrongful urges within us because we knew that it would bring us peace. The past is simply a reminder of the repressed darkness within, and, with such erased from our minds, we have no presumptions made towards one another; we are in peace. When those come against our peaceful ways, they too must be suppressed. But who decides what is darkness and what is not? Who decides what should be suppressed?
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