It is strange how this is happening…

You think you know your path, then suddenly you are reminded with bitter sweetness of what you really love. Deep inside. Not the banal business-ness but the freedom of solo wanderings, of precious loneliness and wonderful dreams. 

A day before yesterday I thought I want to write consistently, to research scientifically and to build a little happy colony somewhere in a green lush valley… Not any more, it seems. Yesterday I was reminded of my younger self who wanted to explore unexplorable till the end of her days. To be lost in the mysterious darkness, knighted by shinning light. Naive, childish dreams? Or not? Am I a builder, a founder, or a quiet escapist, determined to vanish


from ones believing in knowing me and holding me down? 

Yet the world surrounding me is never big enough. Or is it really boundless, it is just that nobody else can see that? I can. I used to praise myself for seeing glimpses of impossible in the mundane. Why not any more? 

That piece of mind blowing poetry from 100 years ago I remembered yesterday… That unearthy sunset I’ve just witnessed…

I don’t need anybody’s help to go further. I don’t need money or permissions. I need to stop being afraid. I need to be kinder and to listen more attentively. To dream, and dream, and dream… And maybe to help my colony sometime. But I can’t always be here for them. I need to travel. To go on a quest alone. To reflect. To ponder. I am not crazy but but I am not of this world. I don’t believe in supernatural, only in insight and inspiration. I want to go far, further than any of you and to tell you what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard, what I’ve experienced…


The huge windmills, fields of them, just under a dark sunset cloud crowned by shinning rim. A flock of birds flying past. But it wasn’t here and now, it was somewhere else, where all is different. A strange sounding language is spoken and the birds are not what we call birds. 

Walk with me and I show you the otherworlds. Everlost. Everwandering. 


A cafe on the crossroads. A kind waitress with a strange accent. Blown from somewhere. Smiling to strangers. Reminded me of Lina. Every word had another meaning. Every moment was made of layers. Who am I? An observer. I’ve been doing this for thousands of years. Not your years. Always in motion. 


The most extravagant ones – from outside – are the ones the most banal inside. Still very interesting. Everybody can reveal great depths, if not to themselves, then to you. Wisdom = insight + memory. Pointing to future but standing firm on the knowledge of what was before. 


My knight rides ahead and beacons me. He is kind and mysterious. I must follow. My muse is dancing along like Shiva. He is ironic and kind. We are wise together.

Light is flowing like water…

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