Author Archives: maroooned

Calatoria prin timp nonlinear

Sa presupunem ca totul e acelasi lucru, iar existenta e un mister pentru ea insasi. Dar vezi, pana si chestia asta pe care ea si-o scrie siesi e nula, inecesara, si nu ar trebui sa existe, chiar daca, si tocmai pentru ca, exprima faptul ca expresia nu e necesara.

Recunoasterea. Now that’s something. The sense, and the drive to name the unnamed. Mamihlapinatapai. The paradox of the name not naming itself holds the perception of time in a linear sense. Inbetween rests the rest.
Will. To want, or the feeling of want. And you usually want to hold things still so that you experience everything through any given point of building. But you see? There lays the trick. In wanting to transcend there can be no transformation. After all, you’re standing still. Transformation requires dynamic, requires death and birth and death and birth. So then comes the question. Can you trick the universe to transcend imortality into imortality?
Nonlinear perception of the time. Paradoxes.
Sa presupunem ca exista un inceput si un sfarsit. La inceput avem doua personaje, energie masculina si energie feminina. Mai avem un copac cu viata si adevar. Sugar, spice and everything nice. They both know and they both know they know. They both feel there’s nothing to be known.
Then we have the history of the universe. During which this unnamed struggles with wanting to name itself, swimming like a dolphin in and out of the ocean it creates along the way, deep down and cosmos high.
We still have the same two characters in our story, only they are spread in the vast unnamed, playing all scenarios, the whole infinite of them.
Before we get to the end, let’s look at another story.
The attempt to trick the universe.
In one of the male’s energy manifestations it figures it out. But as he has the revelation, being on the “know and want” field, he also “knows” that he can’t use it, as naming the unnamed would end existance. The revelations continue and, paying in huge amounts of energy, he figures out a way to stop time, to hold it all, from start till end, to walk on the nonpath of nonlinear time.
Earlier before he had recognised her. They saw and were seeing each other in the middle of now here. So, in its ignorance, ambition, and want of control, he decided like a child to try out this paradox on… well, by now you’ve figured out, it was on itself, him and her being it and all. So he returned to Utopia, and hid something from her. Just one thing, the one thing, the rest was all to feel. He then told her with the energy of a child what he had done, but you could see the mad scientist face as well. Telling her was part of the plan. He had just ask her out on a date at the end of time, even thou, not only would they meet there anyway, but they are already there. Now, all he needed was a hidden thing, the one thing, by her. Well, the story goes she never did, because maybe she didn’t even understand, or that she understood clearly.
The dynamic of death and birth, in the ocean and out to the stars was doing its thing. The history of the universe continued as it always does. Their manifesting paths grew separate, and the undefinied space between them was absorbing the life out of him, through his controlling definition of the undefined. He was indeed living the nonlinear time field, but he was killing and dying in the process, instead of his plan of life eternal, which he already had through being it. He was going crazy in the act of projecting his story onto the history of the universe.
He was spared of the burden when he went back to her and showed what he had hid from her.
Sa presupunem ca totul e acelasi lucru, iar existenta e un mister pentru ea insasi. And when all scenarios are over, meaning all the time, they meet on the Planet with the garden of the one and only tree, seeing each other as the one remaining truth that needs no naming.

7dcdbcc17eb5748411c858a5430508f6 Continue reading


Dor- Vraji Praji

imaginează-ți că ești pe niște șine de tren
și te uiți în depărtare către șine cum din paralele se transformă în punct
acolo sunt eu
hai după mine
privirea sus!
sunt un cerc prins de-o ureche
urechea ești tu, ascultă-mă
sunt chiar în partea cealaltă, iar când mă uit la tine, tot punct roșu aud
sunt plin de puncte roșii pe margine
iar trenul se învârte,
mâncând tot torturi de check point-uri în noduri fabulate și degete cântate
ascultă-mă, nu doar în zi.
sunt vorbitorul. asta doar pentru că sunt chiorul.
Îmi place să fiu punctul din capătul celălalt.
punctul e necesar, atrage și scutură covoare goale-goale cu praf de valuri de mirare.
Și care, dar oare, care e un oarecare?
că fiecare punct e unic, la fel ca toate celelalte.
Sunt fapte moarte împăiate în acasele în viață din plin privind în gol ce-ascund opusuri de priviri neoarbe
sunt un sirop acrilic din fundal cu susu-n jos pe-un sunet salt
sunt un doar neinvitat, un estuar nevizitat, o picătură de ulei, o scoarță netedă de ei,
un bin-venit de mine, o inimă de porți străine
sunt un clișeu de tine, adio și rămâi cu bine


Legenda Oaiandei

Cap. 1. Panda

La inceput era nimic. Pentru ca ce urma sa se nasca stia cat de important era sa astepti cateva momente la inceputul oricarui inceput…sa observi un pic situatia, mai ales ca era dubios sa fie nimic.
– Dar sa incepem cu sfarsitul. Mereu incepem cu sfarsitul si incepem idei vechi din idei noi. Poate ceva neinceput sa aiba un sfarsit? Oricum e doar haos observat de o constiinta si interpretat, legat, concluzionat, modificat; si oricum e nimic, doar constiinta ce creaza ceva-ul <> ambele in acelasi timp si niciuna…

Mamihlapinatapai cosmic – atunci cand universul se dedubleaza dorind acelasi lucru, dar nici o parte din cele doua nu vrea sa fie prima care initiaza.
Dar bine…asta e doar ideea unui copac batran pe nume Royskopp care canta despre formă ca un monument antic plin de energie transformata din timp si sculptata de evenimentele din cele infinite dimensiuni; si despre momentul in care totul a fost facut din dragoste si inca mai trimite semnale prin frecvente jucause si va trimite vesnic, pana la urmatorul inceput sau sfarsit..intelegeti voi..sau alegeti.
La auzul ultimelor cuvinte ale batranului Royskopp zis si Jubokko, zis si Yggdrasil, si multe altele, a venit momentul nasterii din nimic catre nimic a unui panda autist, cu o singura intrebare in minte si in suflet “De ce am fost creat?”
Era: Iarna Marilor Cete. Totul era un far, far, far Away. Mergea catre nimic in timp ce totul se crea in jurul lui, avand ca ghid doar Luna Geagea, ce ii lumineaza calea, din Conlunatia Coma White.
Poposise pe la mijlocul nimicului chiar in punctul in care oriunde privesti vezi doar nimic, sa se odihneasca si sa cugete. De plictiseala s-a lasat sa creeze fara sa mai fie atent, si doar se juca Go inconstient si liber de nevoia distrugerii, cand un sarpe cu doua capete jucause ii iese in cale. Erau Shakali si Aghori si aveau cam 30 m lungime. Aghori avea 33, a facut mai mult sport in tinerete. Asta l-a facut increzator si de-asta el era cel care vorbea,, iar Shakali doar asculta, mereu.
Shakali era rosu, Aghori albastru.
– Imi povestea cineva ca a dormit o data pe o bancă-popas afara si cand s-a trezit, s-a dus sa-si ia o cafea si s-a intors pe aceeasi banca sa si-o bea ca de dimineata. Cred ca facem asta mai des decat observam. Cred ca e vorba de acelasi sentiment, de acelasi atasament de “acasa” unde “lucrurile noastre sunt”, unde cunoastem, unde ne simtim confortabil, unde ne place sa fim si atat, unde ne recapatam energia, sau deschiderea catre ea lucrand prin dimensiunile cognitiv, emotional, spiritual. Asta e ideea aceluiasi copac cand nu-i atent la ce se gandeste si trunchiul lui creaza foi ce se scriu singure si se trimit una pe cealalta prin posta rosu-albastrie, schimband frecventa semnalului, dar pastrand esenta, reamintind ca a sti si a se astepta sunt diferite, iar limbajul, comunicarea, conexiunea devin materiale fundamentale in crearea monumentelor antice.
Ii povestea Aghori lui Shakali fara sa arate vreun semn cum ca Panda Autist ar exista. Dupa ce ramase blocat pe “acelasi copac” o vreme, Panda cel mic se gandea “si daca as pune in cuvinte, in pasi, in etape, in descrieri, in explicatii, in terminologii universalul – presupunand ca il identific – nu as lua magia din el oare? Poate in mod paradoxal e preferabil sa evidentiez faptul ca toti avem perceptia proprie si unica asupra universalului, si asa e si fain sa fie. Toti? Dar care toti? La ce bun sa existe toti? De ce sa fie creati altii?”
In marea de piese negre din Go, Panda plasase piesele albe la intamplare in tot acest timp; in mijlocul nimicului; scria: “When you are born in a world you don’t fit in, it’s because you were born to help create a new one.” Panda was like wtf si s-a trezit intr-un vis.
Era: Inceputul Sfarsitului. Lordul Haribo Tequila Ț Smokey Frederic Tomas the Fifth organizeaza ultima petrecere a existentei.
Panda, nevenindu-i sa creada, inchise ochii repetand in minte “Lumineaza-mi calea Geagea pana o gasesc, lumineaza-mi calea Geagea pana o-ntalnesc!”

Cap. 2. Panda visits the 7th dimension, The land of Alexandria, where all books are called Alex and they write each other into existence. Panda starts reading the Gatekeeper Book.
“It’s amazing how beings step into your life and how they change you. How they remind you and you remind them that sometimes all we need to do is show each other we’re there. We’re all one; all Alex; all Pandra; all metaphors for each other. I’m not something else. I’m a different choice of you. I’m you with a left turn at one point. I’m what could have been if. We’re mirrors for each other, and that mirror shows itself as magical when you see yourself in me (you being anyone and me being anyone and anyone being anyone). Come be with us, let us write you. Take a pen. Join the wave of words. Be!

“I once chose to be nothing” said Panda “from a list of things i wanted to be. Now I choose to be a traveler. Why do i choose to be a traveler? Because it means so much. I get to choose all kinds of spaces to travel, and by looking through this window, or mirror, I get to be all the things on the list all together in one beautiful thing, which becomes actually less thing like and more being like. Maybe i will get to some higher definition, but this is the best definition of myself yet. And it’s only a definition to be able to paint a picture for the other non-definitions that are so not thing like and so forevermore more being like. Traveling is so much trippier than drugs, than movies, than childhood (well, maybe equal to it), it opens you up to so many possibilities. Well..having had drugs before the actual trip helps a lot, as it makes you aware of the things you want and are able to pay attention to…or, you know, beings, not things. I want everybody to feel that their story is the most awesome story there is. I know how that feels, I feel it everyday. That doesn’t mean I am not aware, and objective (objective as your world perceives that concept), and rational thinking. And all these metaphors! Everything is a metaphor; everyday, every now. This change in perception not only made the past 2 billion years or so an engine for metaphors, but transformed everything that happened before in metaphors.”

I wanna faaaade into you

O simpla Marti in dimineata orei 8 in care ma vad incapabil sa raspund la intrebarea ei “de obicei la cat te trezesti?”. Dar asta e cel mai irelevant lucru. Povestea este despre cum cei doi s-au lasat sa se iubeasca pe celalalt “Everybody seems so far away from here/Everybody just wants to be free” – fara asteptari, fara nimic, in afara timpului, asa cum le place.

– Inca o poveste? Gizas! Da’ cate mai vrei? Pai? Bine! Am ales sa nu ascult muzica acum. Nu ca e vorba de vreo nevoie de liniste ca urmare a stresului; sunt chiar relaxat. Relaxeaza-te si tu! Nu e o poveste trista sau violenta, sau nu stiu. Nu te lua dupa mine! Inca nu stiu ce vreau sa scriu. Vreau sa scriu despre ce fac acum. Si asta fac. Scriu acum despre cum scriu acum. Mai acum de-atat nu se poate.
– A spus cineva “acum”?
– Cand? Nu ma mai intrerupe, imi pierd ideea si nu mai sunt atent la ce gandesc. Dar stai un pic! Cum se face ca tu auzi ce scriu?
– Sunt o ha..
– Hei! Ce-am discutat de intreruperi? Tu asculta ce scriu! Hmm… ma-ntreb daca iti trimit o scrisoare e ca un voicemail pentru tine…

– Nu trebuie sa raspunzi. Zici ca m-asculti cu capu-n jos. Iti sugerez ceva: ………………………apreciez atat de mult oamenii din jurul meu atunci cand ma iubesc, fara sa stie ca fac asta, si asta ma face sa fiu distrat ce alege sa se lase sa fie distrat. It’s a heart thing. It wasn’t a nothing thing……………………………………..pai cat timp n-ai fost atent la mine, eu nu m-am intamplat.

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Paradiso mental

se crapa de ziua
pe un mers muncit
sus catre raze
si varful de munte negrabit
se-ntreaba si se-ntreaba
se pacaleste c-a ghicit
e stanga sau e dreapta?
sub nori adapostit
sta biciclistul-ncetosat
se uita la el cum n-a traversat
se uita la munte
muntele la el
momentul ciudat cand niciunul
nu stie pe unde a o lua
momentul mamihlapinatapai
dar vai, unde si cand se va afla
unde si cand se afla aflarea
poate in marea, poate in valea
poate in dealul, poate prin valuri
poate in larg, poate in creasta
poate in siguranta
poate cu siguranta acum!
aici!
cand trucul magic se desfasoara orbind,
cand Soarele invarte pamantul si il face important
il face sa uite de munte
il face sa uite de el
il spala cu foc, il imbata cu mister
il face invizibil
il face viu
multumesc
il multumesc!


Tripul Psihonautului


Inner Gaze

Gaze at the earth from a distance! Gaze at your inner world from a distance! We need to distance ourselves in order to understand, to reconnect. We need to talk to each other, to share our insights, to listen, to take things as they are in front of us without judging, make sense of it subjectively while respecting the subjective reality of the other and decide what we keep and what we don’t need. And that distance makes for a great first step, as we rise above to a bigger perspective. Astronauts know this, they often talk about what an insightful experience is to gaze at the earth from above to get a better understanding of the biological space ship we’re travelling on. We are all in this together, and it’s not a negative “this”, it’s quite a magical “this”. It’s all about this insight, this period of increased reactivity to stimuli both from within and from without. So you are immediately plunged into a dialogue with your own subconscious, things start to erupt, things start to emerge, new patterns are starting to be perceived and at the same time the world becomes like a sensurround system, the resolution of the input signals get boosted. So all of the sudden you are overwhelmed, almost eclipsed by the signals coming in, you are like a mind in flight, you are in orbital position, you are seeing the big picture. But if you don’t have navigation, if you don’t pattern those signals by carefully choosing beautiful music, by focusing on art, reveries that you can read, controlling the environment, hanging around people whose company induces feelings of well being, if you don’t take responsibility, you risk being disappointed. By patterning those signals you’re authoring the song, the soul surfing that you’re actually doing. You become a psychonaut. A soul surfer investigating psychic through personal, subjective experience. And there’s all kinds of answers that we can find within and without, there’s all kinds of spaces that we can explore within and without. Look at yourself from a distance. Look inside yourself from a distance.


Abun Dance

I am not free, but I want to be. Connection is everything. Codependency is everything in the road to freedom, as well as in the final state of fulfilness. What I feel is too much. I feel I am too much considering the known ways of expressing and experiencing. I’m going mad inside the inner holographic walls as abundance invites to a never-ending dance every atom in the universe. Too much beauty, too much sadness, too much curiosity, too much love, too much madness, too much truth, too much goodness, too much of everything and too much of nothing, so much, if It weren’t so busy living, it would think it’s normal. But It doesn’t think. I am the one that thinks. I am the one that writes “too” before every absolute. What I regard as normality is our collective, protective madness, in which we repress the grim truth about the human condition.

How is connection part of freedom? The same way separateness is. How are they both at the same time part of the same thing? Beautifully!

Nature gives me a closer feeling of freedom than society, as it now is, gives me. I am amazed every time I look at and feel the trees, the mountains, the rivers, the flowers, the living manifestations of consciousness we call animals, and how it all found that balance that made us possible, the perfect system; I am grateful. I am happy to be the vessel for the free energy it channels when I connect to the greater being, I am sad to be a slave of the limitations of our perspective, to “know” that everything there, in front of me, one day is going to die, all these trees, all these plants, all this life is going to decay, everything dissolves in meaninglessness when you think that impermanence is really a real thing. Entropy. Love ends. That is why we also feel sadness when we love, because we can see the inevitable ending of everything and we attach ourselves to it, we want it to last forever, we can feel the infinite beauty in every frame of reality, we want to experience the moment in every possible way until it becomes something else and restart the process. So how do we defy entropy and impermanence? Cause “I will not go gently into that good night, intead rage against the dying of the light”. How do we say “I will not let go? I do not accept the ephemeral nature of this moment, I’m going to extend it forever”?