Such a joy, this fluidity of my soul...
So lovely.
I am writing
I am on a high from which I can't descend
I am on the precipice of a dark forest
I have become a ghost I cannot find my way again
I don't like it
There is a high and a low
The higher I go, the lower I return
It's only in my head that I'm lost
And as I travel further on
My songs rise out of the smoke.
The image of my spirit, is bliss. A single thought
can be transferred into pure writing,
A clear idea of myself
And as always I can tell you
The words I speak, if they were spoken today
and yet their meaning can and will only be
translated into sound, image and meaning in the mind
A memory in words, a memory in images, a memory in sound
My mind has become one with the world.
A new light of the psyche,
a new sense of freedom of thought,
the feeling of being and a world of light and space
the new life of my vision in light
the realization that the future is as much a part of my soul
as the present is of our time
Is not one not filled with the desire for it?
Is not one not so overwhelmed by fear that one might be driven insane by fear