I rewilded. Electricity on and off. A homeless family hides inside a holiday house far away from the city noise. I rewilded. I saw a bird died on a shore having wild plastic raw. I rewilded. Small shops close doors after 60 years or more. No one is walking anymore. I rewilded. I saw progress hole.
So wet inside this water. A wave came. Bite me.
I am all wet inside this water. A wave came. Lift me.
The sea bites the land. Bit by bit. An entire cliff.
The man scoops sand. Bit by bit. A bucket.
Chai on the road touched my toes.
A tiny snail visited me today.
I haven’t lived. I typed on post-its.
Transformers play with forms. Perform.
I finally transformed. I deleted my hard drive.
I am dressed in a fast food outfit. I smell like a chip. I enter a gallery. Try to sell my chip. Why did I wrap a piece of invention as a chip? A gallery does not buy it. Nor chip people.
Fire likes breaths.
Water dances with the tree. Sneaks inside. Drops through the leaves. Hugs as a stream.
I had a piece of paper from times I used to write by hand. Only this time, it evaporated in my bag. It’s time?
She talks to Universe. She said on-line.
They spoke about channels and November 17th. I had a dream. Wisdom teeth!
He told me about the rain. Idea drops travelling through water. Be like water, my friend.
I jumped on the bus to turn my mind off. Spins.
I saw a dreamer on the bus. Melting a glass with her smile. The sun shines.
He examined me. Twice. Every organ. OMG! I got 3 photos to bring home and put on the wall. Mars.
I met a human last week. She told me about her routine. Wake in a room with black blinds. Plug ears with ear plugs that shine. Inside. Eat fats all day. But fast all night. Watch a red light. Sneak into the matrix with orange glasses. Plug her bed with the Earth. Breathe in. Exhale.
I met one more human once. She was a gardener. Refilling B12 and Vit D tanks while planting trees. Drinking mineral water from the stream. Eating organic veg from her garden, sometimes keto with a wild animal fat, and fasting when food is not in season. Earthing while weeding bare foot. Exercising when chopping the wood. Meditating when making the red fire before bed. Sleeping when sun is down. Waking with the tunes of the birds. And writing music when there is nothing else to get done.
‘Stop thinking. Feel,’ he said. ‘But but but but…’ ‘Feel’, he exhaled.
I tidy. Remember my grandma smiling. A billion plastic bags. Flying. Silver spoons. Hiding. A billion linen with holes. From angry bugs.
Electronic music noise. Fills my heart holes.
Containers are too full. To take everything in. As I breathe in.
I tidy. I try to hide it.
It’s now tidy.
I believe stones cry starring nowhere. But they know you’re there.
I feel my body shaking. I move my hand in front of my face. ‘NO’. Loud and calm. I hear it in my head. Same breath like when I was stopping a horse from stealing the food.
It’s 10 am. Finally. I press a giant button. The doors open. Second floor. Sunny. Glass walls overlook a shopping centre. A duo. Libraries and malls. I find a dusty empty desk. Look around. The old man clicks the old keyboard. I open my laptop.
No matter where I go, I feel home. Like carrying a nest whenever I happen to go. A nest is my body and soul.
‘Leave some of the weeds. They will grow again.’ I wanted to follow my way. Every single weed. Such a pain.
If you wait, it speaks.
First came the Fire. Edible Weeds. Now, Bread. Getting closer.
Tractor hands a branch of the tree which warms our hands after the day of working collaboratively.
He was named Cheznut. His tail went up every time he was running free in the green fields.
One day I started walking a different route. On the road. Not so much on the stream and towards the Tree… I was ready to leave.
I found what I was looking for. But was I really looking at all? We came here without goals, except that to make a pond. The Pond was now ready.
I somewhat feel calmer. Was it the forest?
One day, headaches stopped too. Just before I ordered a bag of vitamins! I know why they stopped though. Forgiveness.
in the darkness also lives
just look up the sky
I wrote this that night, or maybe a night after. I can hardly track time these days. “I don’t do time,” as Don would say.
Those two days were weird. But hey, headaches went away! One morning, I woke and left to visit the Tree. Normally, I walk with Cheznut after my routine. But this morning, I woke and left. Meditation or so by the Tree was quick. I recall it was something about my mom. That day and every other day after – no headaches. Maybe that’s how nature speaks to me?
I recall one night too. I went to sleep or just to nap downstairs because he could not sleep and I thought he needs space. It was Monday the 6th, almost Tuesday the 7th. Ah just after mom’s day Sunday. So that night too it was something about self-love.
your body explodes
fresh air in your mouth
I wrote when I woke at 8.37am on the 7th.
sick all life
with eyes wide open i
say hi life