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Disassociation
Written precisely 500 days ago, in a remote yet centered piece of earth.
There is no hiding.
Here we go.
And grow.
Deeper.
Than.
H
e
r
e
.
Associated.
I am.
In the full meaning of the term.
I am grounded to planet Earth and its forces whether I believe I could fly or not.
I am swamp-minded whether I travel the world and pay for sex.
I feel stagnant.
I feel like construction residue is being thrown on the very planet I am.
I know there is a better life, a tomorrow, maybe some peace of mind, listening to the winds, drinking Eucaplito tea, playing chess for hours with my friends, soon, it could happen soon.
I hold onto fears, conceptions of courage and war, strategy games, and so on, as a matter of fact, I am poisoned.
It is everywhere, no one to trust, everybody has a sacred motive to fuck each other up.
What the world has become, is some sort of endless maze cutting corners and trimming grasses in order to see the next obstacle.
Obstacle Is The Way — a book about Stoicism.
Well, it is, but perhaps navigating wisely and not needing to move every single rock from the road to Rome, I might take a canoe upstream with a Danish ladybird.
My mind has turned into…
