Thus spoke Lotous

 “Someone

somewhere, at

some point... opened a book. And

 as s/he turned, or

              scrolled, in the first

page, imagined... and

              created

                                  a book

                                  a story

                                  an entire Universe. And, the

page wrote:”

Someone

 somewhere, at

 some point... opened a book. And

 as s/he turned, or

             scrolled, in the first

page, imagined... and

             created

                                  a book

                                  a story

                                  an entire Universe. And, the

page wrote:

     In the beginning was

Logos (Word). And,

Logos said...

From the beginning basically there is

Logos and since then

            says...

     ...is telling

       Stories!

The World was actually made so

       Stories can be

                told.

In the beginning it was

Chaos. Others say it was

Chronos, and others believe it was

Ananke (Necessity) that came first.

                      Others say

Eros (Cupid.) Or, maybe

Nyx (Night?)

And, one of the first

      Stories starts with

Gaia, and a few more

gods.

And then, somewhere

        there, in the same

      story,

Thanatos (Death) was also born.

And, all the

      Stories are connected with each other. And, after all

the Beginning eventually loses its meaning.

I wonder what existed before

the Beginning? Before

Logos; before

Chaos,

Chronos and

Ananke,

Eros, or

Nyx? Before

any positive,

       negative, and

       balancing force? Before

the Big Bang? Maybe,

   a Cosmic egg? (Or the hen that did the

                   egg?) Or, as most prefer,

   a god; or, why not,

   a goddess. Maybe,

the One Suchness of Alan Watts or

the One. Rather

the 42! Probably

      Nothing; or just,

there was no Before at all. Definitely though, there were no

      Stories!

 The Beginning...

Already basically, with once upon a time, the

       Story has begun.

       Stories, as we have mentioned,

are wibbly wobbly, timey wimey,

are interconnected. Because, they presuppose, from

  the beginning, and maybe by definition,

       a past,

       a background... something, that the author can build the plot on.

                        Maybe, the next generations will laugh at our

idea of one-way continuous in space-time, as much as we do on the

idea of a flat Earth. And

                        maybe, the real

          beginning is somewhere in the middle.

Where the

         Story

          begins. And, the

 prehistory is build only

 after.

After.

                  Heavy word is

After. It

always curries all our hopes, and

                        all our fears.

Always

                  Heavy word is

Always.

Them who can curry

Always shall Live

Forever

Pic by deartreehouse

Yin Yang

Yin and Yang is not really 

Black and White,

Good and Evil. It's simply...

You and Me.

That's the ultimate dichotomy. ☯️

Thus spoke me.

Poem or something

What?

Nothing makes sense.

50%/50% chances on any scenario

Maybe I've been fooled

Maybe Truth was there

Perhaps even Love had a drink in the back.

So what?

It doesn't matter anyway.

Nothing does.

I guess I confused you for You.

Well, I'll get up again, or something

Cause, whatever

I'll get up again and keep going

And, never stop

Cause I'll let nothing stop me

Not even you, or anyone, or anything 

Keep-walking is what matters 

I’ll keep walking

Hope to meet You there

My sermon on the mount

Blessed be those who read to listen and not to judge.

Blessed be those who keep their eyes open not only to look at the form, but to see the context, for they will be the first to hear the new narratives.

The Wolf Made Me Jung

                       

Maybe I'm just too cynical for rhyme.

                       It's a cynical aeon anyway.

          So, I am not even special that way.

       Oh, look at that, a random rhyme. You see?

The lost girl (poem)

Once upon a time there was a little girl who got lost in the maze of Time.

She had hidden there a long time ago because from a young age she learned how harsh reality can become. And now she was afraid to go out.

Are you reading what I am writing, or am I writing what you are reading?

Someone

somewhere, at

some point.. opened a book. And

 as s/he turned, or

              scrolled, in the first

page,    imagined.. and

              created..

Poem: If all the MEs

If all the MEs that spend the night alone could meet.. we'd have the best night ever! 

It would be a hot-summer, full-moon, clear-sky night.

We'd talk about ideas, ask for advice, do different things to our hair, watch a movie..

We'd laugh and weep and sing..

If all the MEs ever met.. maybe the World would come to an end.

It would still be a great night though!

And then I'm thinking..

Maybe happiness isn't to have someone every night to spend with..

Maybe happiness is to be in such harmony with your selves.. that if you ever met your YOUs.. it would be the best night ever!