The autumn sun has made the trees look old and sad. They seem to be good natured. The old trees are carefully watching me as I make my way between them, winding. I hear, every few seconds, the song of a bird that is lodging in the branches of the kindly and sad trees up above. I am not self centered.
Every sunday now this routine. No holidays or workdays, just a simple little sunday stroll with no one else. The main thing to do is to just have a lovely relax. Just let yourself sweetly relax and feel like a little piece of dew on a flower.
There is no trouble going on. There is no city and no people and nothing at all that I don't like. Quiet and alone and full of thoughts. There is no Gok Wan going mad around here. There are no phone in competitions. Is this a death? I think I can feel a hearbeat but it might not be mine.
I am going to carry on thinking about whether I might be dead.
Friday, 19 December 2008
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3 comments:
this was very serene and quiet. i liked it
thanks - i love being serene
pure magic
esp
'I am not being self centred'
ha
i've always admired and loved the earnest way writers like baldwin wrote about beauty. but also i like the way zadie smith writes about beauty in a piss - taking way. while you're neither of these, it's a perfect bite size version of smith's acerbic life takes.
or i laughed (short version)
ps the word verification is 'latormen' in spanish la tormenta means the storm.
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