Category Archives: glances of reality

Nightlight is mine to command

But what the fuck is a nightlight? There is no me, but I am awake at 04:37 I don’t know what day straight, not sure if I’m dreaming. I think I’m the smoke in between two mirrors. Stars are fallin’, I can hear them. I crave for a never ending snow, still, silent. I want the world to stop. My bones are cold. I guess I got cold bones, if that’s a thing. But it never stops.  The fallin’ stars are leaves. The present always leaving. Hope it’s not something I did. Pretty much all I can do. Whereas the only thing the world can do is ping-pong from structure to entropy. All I can think about is how I’m just a dancing shadow and how that should free me from the darkness. But a dancing shadow in the darkness of the night doesn’t really stand out. At least a flickering light would be nice to be, even if in free fall. The great nothing masquerading as something you can name.

You know what I think? I think everybody feels trapped when they stop. I think everybody feels guilty for no reason. Being depressed is truly a satanic state, because, in general, depression has gone beyond being circumstantial, has gone beyond being a result of stimuli outside of yourself, and is now just a result of some kind of reoccurring, awful cascade that has actually maybe even created changes in your neurology in a way that your engines aren’t firing appropriately, so you feel tired, you can’t get anything done, and you feel alone, and you feel like everything around you is tasteless and empty. And I speak from a place of having been deep down this horrible pit. It’s kind of a gateway. And the gatekeeper is yourself. And the gatekeeper is asking you this incredible riddle in every moment, which is “why live?” And if you can answer that riddle, the gate will swing open and you will be allowed out of this awful net and into the party that is life.

You will find that when you’re depressed your attention is being grabbed every second by either negative thought patterns or by external hypnotic devices, for example TV, video games, the internet, or bad people that you shouldn’t be around. And if you see these variables, if just for fun, a thought experiment, you think to yourself, at this moment I am in a hypnotic trance where I am being distracted by this grem lin in the form of various indulgences that I keep going into; it sort of raises the stakes a little bit. Because, if you say I’m gonna listen to music doing nothing for the next 5 hours, looking at your cigarette in the ashtray, seeing your messy room, you can do that, even if you know it sucks. But if you say “holy fuck, I am in the intestinal tract of satan” and these video games and people, and alcohol, and drugs, and laziness are the assets that are dissolving my will, and has dissolved my will to the point that I can barely move, I am stuck like one of those flies in a spider web, and I’m just in the last moments of my life, underneath some dark cabinet, waiting for someone to throw me into a garbage can or drown me. Suddenly it might spark this thing inside you that makes you decide to fight. ‘Cause that’s what the fucking trick is, man. This is where it gets fun. It’s because suddenly you realize you’re alive, which up until this point might have just seem empty wandering through these synthetic, plastic landscape that is modern life, transforms into this epic battle against the dark lord, you can call it whatever you wanna call it, by the way. You get to name the fucking thing. But it’s fun to personify the negative entropic mechanisms that have arisen in your life and recognize that you are in a sacred battle with it. And if you win this battle against this terrific foe, which can transform into so many delightful things, then you will climb out of it a warrior. You can overcome the depression. You just have to first recognize that you are in a fight for your life. ‘Cause that’s what fucking depression is, a fight for your fucking life.

And what does it mean? It means that every single aspect, every single thing surrounding you, the porn, the video games, the drugs, the shitty food, the fucked up girlfriend or boyfriend, the friend that only hurts you instead of giving you positive guidance and love, the family member that, I don’t know, could have molested you when you were growing up, the person you’re pretending to forgive that you haven’t really forgiven, all of these are like the heads of this grem lin, this beast, call it whatever you wanna call it. Recognize it for what it is. And then, when you raise the stakes and work yourself into a braveheart style warrior, and decide that you wanna live, that’s when you put up the fucking fight.

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Urlet la zei

Renașterea

Free me from concern, Jim Carrey. Take me to the moon. The meeting with god through nea Gheorghe, păstorul. Mulțumesc pentru ghicitoare, ți-am adus ghiciu înapoi. Alerg în zori prin câmpuri de culori, de parcă m-am renăscut. Nu îmi pasă dacă trec prin foc și ploi, că stiu că fac asta scriind. Da, pot să zic că am luat-o razna un pic. Deci ghicitoarea asta cu pânza de păianjen și păianjenul. Păi dacă pânza e lumea, păianjenul e cretorul. Și de ce mă sperie? De ce mi-e frică de întuneric? De ce mi-e frică de moarte, de sfârșit? De ce nu pot sa dorm? Știu că “de ce” e cea mai proastă întrebare, dar cam atât mai știu de tot. Îmi amintesc singura dată când am fost la pescuit cu unchimiu. Tot timpul îmi amintesc locurile astea în care am fost, dar nu îmi amintesc drumurile ce le înconjoară și le dă acces. Îmi amintesc chiar multe. Tărâmul cu prăpastii, cabana de la stână ce plutește în ceruri de unde tataia se aruncă pentru ca trebuie, deși niciodată nu știu de ce trebuie. “De ce”. De taicamiu nu prea îmi amintesc. Oricum, îți datorez o minciună.

N-am urlat nici azi. Unde tre să merg să fiu doar eu pe raza completă a urletului către zei? Sunt atât de obosit și deconectat. Nu am un de ce și tot nu știu ce vreau. Ce vreau? Ce vreau cu adevărat? Și mă tem că dacă aflu ce vreau nu pot să am. Nici nu știu. Simt că am atâta tristețe în mine, și confuzie și frustrare. “Grea viața asta măi băiete, nu?”. “Uneori, bre, nea Gheorghe”. Măcar în sfârșit am spus cuiva că mi-a murit tatăl și că nu știu dacă să plâng, și că oricum nu o fac, se pare. Adevărul e că am facut-o în UK, și am facut-o cu poftă. Atât de mulți oameni nu sunt bine, mai ales în perioada asta, mi se pare. Și doar știm că moartea e normală, și oricum doar o dată murim (YODO), iar momentele de viață sunt cu milioanele, și doar știm că atașamentul de ego e iluzoriu. Adica na, mulți nu știu încă, dar așa mi se pare că ăștia de știm parcă și mai mult suferim. Poate că tocmai că știm și tot e mai puternică legătura de ego decât e puternică cunoașterea. Și cunoașterea e de două feluri. Poți să cunoști prin a ști, și poți să cunoști prin a simți.

Iluzia pe care o trăiesc acum e cu metafora asta cu păianjenul și pânza lui. Păianjenul nu există. Doar pânza există. Și totuși! După cum am spus și mai înainte. Hai! Mănâncă-mă! Ia-mă cu totul! Dacă exiști. Dacă ai boașe. Dacă există un păianjen, eu sunt acela, pentru că eu îl creez, și pot să îi creez și inexistența. Dar nu prea știu cum să mă mai descurc în spațiile astea închise. Poate nu e nevoie să urlu acum. Poate nu e nevoie să urlu punct. Ideea e că nu știu. Și e în regulă să nu știu. Și claritatea tot o poveste e. Divorced from mistaken identification. To all, but to love, in the grace of creation. Then unite by your art, your head, and your heart, for emptiness ends where eternity starts.

And still, I gotta ask. Is it a web of lies or a web of truth. I guess it’s just a web. And I let go of it. From now on I will only tell you sweet little lies.


hygge – pronounced “hoo-ga”, this Danish concept cannot be translated to one single word but encompasses a feeling of cozy contentment and well-being through enjoying the simple things in life. If you’ve ever enjoyed reading a book indoors on a rainy Sunday or a cup of hot cocoa on a snow day you’ve experienced hygge without even knowing it.

What an out of body experience seems to do is recontextualize the self. So, I’m thinking as a possible answer to the question “what would happen if all people on earth were physically in the same place, at the same time, mindfully?” is, maybe it would lead to a kind of collective out of body experience, from which a result could be this re-contextualization of the collective self, bringing clarity as to what new cultural narrative we need (or is looking for us).

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Ziua cafea şi muzică

Rabdă inimă şi tu, rabdă inimă şi tu că vezi cum e timpu-acu’. Rabdă inimă şi tace, că pământu’ se întoarce. Eh, yo, pune mâna sus dacă-ţi place folcloru’, încă una taică dacă ţi-ai găsit rolu’. Te iert, tată. Şi vă iert pe toţi, unchiule, bunicule. Mi-e dor de voi. Vă am pe toţi în suflet şi vă port cu drag. Am înţeles, şi fără să ştiu. Am eu grijă de fetele şi femeile noastre frumoase. Mămăiţă, vin îndată să îţi arăt cât te iubesc. Mi-e dor de tine şi te preţuiesc. Mătuşică, mama, te iubesc şi pe tine, dar tu ai ştiut mereu. Mămică, mamiţulachi, mami. Şi tu ai ştiut tot timpul, şi ţi-a fost cel mai greu. Totul e mai greu când ştii. Vin acasă. Vreau să ajung la ţară. Cred că această primă carte este pentru mine. Şi celelalte tot pentru mine, dar pentru celelalte manifestări ale mele. Trebuie să recunosc, după Anglia, acasă, la Românica, femeile sunt atât de frumoase. E aproape amuzant cât de acolo au fost mereu semnele. Aminteşte-ţi de unde ai plecat. Acum e timpul să mă educ, să studiez. Când te opreşti din a pune întrebarea nu mai poţi fi păcălit. Viaţă simplă, iată-mă cum vin. Adio speranţelor şi viselor mele. Nu există eu şi totul va veni. Îmi voi juca rolul, dar tot timpul voi şti. Doamne, câte morţi am săvârşit. De câte ori deschid fereastra, de-atâtea ori o-nchid la loc. De câte ori am murit, de-atâtea ori m-am renăscut. Aşa m-amuză. Şi când avem revelaţii suntem nişte aroganţi snobi. Cică „renunţ la control” când nici nu l-am avut vreodată. Toate revelaţiile sunt de fapt renunţarea la o iluzie. Acceptarea faptului că nu ştim. Sincronizarea inimii cu creierul. Ce frumoasă eşti tu Românie, vreau să te văd, pământ sfânt ce eşti. Nici nu trebuie să-ţi spun, că ştiu că îi ierţi deja pe ăştia mici confuzi ca mine. Ştiu că piesele se potrivesc pentru că le-am văzut darmandu-se. Zalmoxis, auzi la ea numa. Deci trebuie să-ţi zic, Em, că ai câştigat un loc în lista mea de „futu-te-n gură” :)). Am mers singur prin mulţime şi am cântat, şi am dansat, şi abia aştept să o mai fac. De asemenea, surioara mea iubită, cum te îndrăgesc. Şi pe tine, cumnate, bine ai venit în această familie frumoasă care acum e completă din nou. Am încredere în tine, şi în noi, şi în mine. Simo, voi fi mereu aici pentru tine. Şi întreaga familie cosmică, şi întreaga comunitate globală. Soarele şi luna. Vântul şi furtuna. Cuvântul şi fantoma. Separarea şi sudura. Apa şi pădurea. Valea şi culmea. Nimicul şi lumea. Deşertul şi păşunea. Floarea şi promisiunea. Frigul şi căldura. Echilibrul şi natura. Toate astea sunt iubirea.

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The road back

Don’t seek to build your home under the shadow of a tree. Shadows tend to move, you see. This empty fortune cookie world can be so out of tune as a whole. I’m going back. Sometime tomorrow I’ll be with my peeps. I got the elixir with me. Like I said, the battle was won. We can relax now for a bit. The dragon was slayed. I got its head as a trophy to bring to my next adventure. Oh, how I’m ready and confident. But first, calls for celebration. And oh, the stories I’ll tell when I’m old. For now, still young, thou. Younger than I’ve ever been. Or so it feels right now. New born. I’ve only just begun. It starts now. Day 122. The journey back. It always starts now.

I guess I got nothing but time now. It’s awful! Humans, right? :)) Can’t even smoke. Don’t feel the need… and also it makes me feel sick if I force myself to do it. I tried. I prefer the arrival gate, rather than departures. Even thou I ain’t moving now from this place, just because I’m meh, and here, and sitting, departure people are calm, bored and boring. Arrival people, now that’s a different story. They are agitated, moving, confused, running into one another, dragging huge baggage, losing each other, looking for each other, finding each other, forgetting what language they’re supposed to speak, scared by the unpredictability of the weather, calling, shouting, being called, angry at the bad internet speed.

I really wish I could smoke a cigarette. I remember again I haven’t slept a single minute last night; can’t fucking sleep before a long, hard, exciting trip. So convenient. I treated myself with smoothies and carbs. It’s funny how sometimes we find ourselves in a state in which we would accept dying. There was a fire alarm and smoke at the arrival entrance, of course, before I treated myself, so I was still feeling sick, and I heard myself think “is this a terrorist attack? Would I be ok with dying now? Yes I would. In fact, I hope it is a terrorist attack right now”. Ha ha. Not that unusual, thou. I have a habit of asking myself in as many diverse contexts if I’d be ok with dying in that particular moment of my life. I learn a lot about myself that way, and I also teach myself stuff. And most often the answer is yes. I think it should always be yes. So, to lay down some context, thou. 11.10.2017 London, Luton, 14:32, plane leaves at 17:35. I can’t wait to be in my seat, 30F, and up in the air, in the sky.

Out of it all. I think about Simo. I CAN NOT EVER THINK ABOUT SIMO AND ME AND NOT SEE WHAT HAPPENS WITH US AS THE EXACT PERFECT THING THAT NEEDS TO HAPPEN. Weird, right? I cannot believe how much wisdom I stored on my blog. And what’s surprising is that my fear of consuming or running out of novelty is not even close to being a reality. I’m also surprised beyond measure and glad that I don’t do drugs anymore. I am now part of the select group of people that did drugs, don’t do ‘em anymore, but are not against drugs :)). I can hardly wait to see what this brings. I guess it’s my turn now, to kill time until we fly, just like time has been killing me so far, for a while now. I still love the fact that no one that passes knows me. I’m proud of myself I kept myself out of the stories my mind has still been trying to create these past 4 months. Oh boy, it’s been so challenging, I don’t even know how I did it. What was it inside me that kept making the right decision. I love airports. I think I can smoke soon, but I still don’t feel the need. Wtf? :))

When I get home I have some mailing to do. You know what’s weird? I never question any of these weird, magical, irrational things I do. I love doing them. I love writing, I love traveling, I love being free, I love walking with no particular place to go, I love dancing, I love missing my body, I hope I pay it more care and attention in the present future. You know how much I love writing? I love it so much that if I lose track of time so bad that it would have passed over 4 hours and I miss the plane because I just kept writing, it would make me love it even more. I’ll do some people gazing now.

I will miss England. I kinda already do. I loved it here. Remember when I said I hate it here? Ha ha. Life. But I’m not all that surprised. I miss myself more, thou. What a funny feeling, all day today, when I’m leaving, I felt like I fit in here more than any other day from the 122 days. Oh, you, nature of the universe, you. I have more styles of writing than I have readers :)) and I don’t know which one you like more, but for me, it is this one right here. This style is the one that brings me most freedom. I keep seeing impossible people. And they look sooo much alike with people I know, I almost feel guilty for not shouting out :)) (and also I want to write with emoticons today, makes me feel good). And the thing is, it’s not the first time this shit happens to me, with recognizing people from my life onto, well, most certainly other human vessels. I stop writing for now.

I guess I’m still part of the morphic resonance of the purgatory until 17:35. I went to check out some more of the poor arrivals until I check in. COYLE is one of the names written on a piece of white paper one of the black tuxedo bearded man is holding, waiting with a brand new list of simulations for the lost soul. I exercise seeing reality as simulation. It’s liberating in a way. I still have a tone to learn. I’m happy to be here, thou. In this reality, in this life. It’s kind of a beautiful thing. I’m happy and grateful to have met all of you.

Two hours away. I’m in the doable interval. I’ll do some more people gazing at arrivals, smoke a cigarette and wish good luck to the new comers. Luck is the best.

And now, back to present future. Here I come. Here, I, am, now.

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The bright helm

This is the end,
My only friend,
The end.

I’m bored. Let’s do something else. I’ve got this book. My dad gave this to me. I’m supposed to be the soldier who never blows his composure, and even though I hold the weight of the whole world on my shoulders, I’m never supposed to show it. And even though the battle was won, I feel like we lost it. I spent too much energy on it, honestly I’m exhausted, and I’m so caught in it I almost feel I’m the one who caused it. Why would I want to destroy something I helped build? It wasn’t my intentions, my intentions were good. Maybe I’ve been talking about something that I knew nothing about. Sometimes I think about it more than I forget.

In the world but not of it. There is no me and everything will come. You gotta swim it. Swim yourself that is. Molly M’alone’s upside down, headache, cry it out then stretch your wrinkles and your riddles and see. Become it. Let be. Between the Worthing and Newhaven shining Bright one will be twin. The other will go and play with form, but in every speck of dust the wind enacts, history will break the mask and he’ll remember to forgive. Be brave and give. Give in, and Out returns the favor. Ar cam trebui sa ies din apa inghetata si intr-un final sa recunosc ca v-am tradat. Dar din cuvinte curge sange. Hai sa spalam ce s-a patat. I’m in the walkabout, and the ground rocks reflect into my walking eyes – “the happening occurs not! in a one-man show” – one step. And like I promised, I will be right back.

Lately, I’ve been hard to reach; I’ve been too long on my own. Everybody has a private world where they can be alone. Are you calling me? Are you trying to get through? Are you reaching out to me, like I’m reaching out to you? Feels like all eyes on me, so I try to avoid any eye contact. I just hide behind the tears of a clown. So why don’t you all sit down? Listen to the tale I’m about to tell.

For the fishy creatures, we’re just as much in the ocean, as they are in the ocean for us. And my gift, my craft, my talent, is for you. The space in between the twins. I, finally, got captured by the photographer. Underneath these words is all that matters. The beautiful words that the All matters out into existence are for you to find your way in. In the next play, you can sing them back to us, and we’ll all dance until it stops. We’ll all go on walkabouts. You know this already. But, in the “end”, as much as it is about me for the audience, it’s all about you for the actor. So tell me that you need something.

Yeah, it’s been a ride. I guess I had to go to that place, to get to this one. Now, some of you might still be in that place. If you’re trying to get out, just follow me. I’ll get you there. I’m doing this for me, so fuck the world. I’m gonna be what I set out to be, without a doubt, undoubtedly. It’s a game called circle and I don’t know how I’m way too up to back down. But I think I’m still trying to figure this out. Thought I had it mapped out but I guess I didn’t, and I just can’t keep living this way. So starting today, I’m breaking out of this cage. I’m standing up, I’m gonna face my demons. I’m manning up, I’m gonna hold my ground. I’ve had enough, I’m so fed up. Time to put my life back together right now.

I value my lucidity. I can see right through this illusion of racing with time. My attempt to understand is righteous, it’s just I’ve been trying to understand and love all the misleading people at misleading moments of ornamental borders of threads left loose or formed into tassels or twists, used to edge material of time. Yesterday navigation. Today balance. Tomorrow direction.

This is the start,
My only twin,
The start.

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Forgive to remember/Remember to forgive

Take control of your mind and meditate
Let your soul gravitate to the love, Y’all

Can you practice what you preach?
Or would you turn the other cheek?

Father, Father, Father help us
Send some guidance from above
‘Cause people got me, got me questionin’
Where is the love

Come on, left, write, left, write. Write to catch up with the play that is being played. I was writing down my poems for the few. I feel like I am a kind of portal, or instrument that allows my expression to tune into these frequencies which differ from the reality we are used to, or we remember behaving. What do I need? I know what I need. I need a something to talk about. Or, I need a someone to ask me questions and keep a certain trail of seeking. It has to be someone with a great understanding of language. Why do I say this? Well, what I’m envisioning is every question has 1% from the essence of the whole main idea. And I tune into that 1% as I answer the other part of the question, without even being aware of it. I keep doing this until the very last question, and only then, as I finish answering that, everyone, including me, has the revelation for the first time. Not sure I understand this role I’ve been given. I sit and talk to God and he just laughs at my plans. My head speaks a language I don’t understand. My hand speaks a language I do understand. So what’s your occupation? Are you a fly by night? No time to waste in asking, I think that I’m right.

What’s going on, Alex? Are you focused? ‘Cause I can’t tell. I’m not saying you’re not. I’m just saying I can’t tell. Let’s focus on what and why, they intertwine, anyway. Let’s get real. I wanna meditate today. I want to work with the other traveler one day. I want to help my family. God knows they helped me. I want to write and treat the world according to how I see the world. I want a week with the other traveler and many drugs. Until then I gotta stop with the drugs. I’m ready. And I think you’re ready, too. Let’s play. Let’s dance. Let’s sing. Let’s do. And let’s talk. Ayahuasca is pulling me. DMT is pulling me. The podcast is pulling me. All these places are pulling me. The desert reached out to me. The drums are calling.


momentul ala cand artistul isi ia filmul ca tot timpul e necesar sa sufere ca arta lui sa existe;

cred ca atitudinea noastra catre cineva tine mult de ce credem intentia generala/fundamentala a celuilalt asupra noastra sa fie;

numa povesti vrei. mai potoleste-te si tu. vine, auzi-l vine. suntem legati de sine.

The power of believing you know what you’re doing;

The now is boring. Deal with it. Live the anticipation in its purest.

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~ I believe every word, and I don’t believe a word!


From Zona Sona

Cand vorbesc cu maicamea, foarte rar de altfel, ii spun despre mine doar ca „fac oameni fericiti” si esente de genul si in jurul astuia. Intr-un fel e ca si cum ii arat acest mod pur si fundamental al fiintei mele. E frumos sa vad, sa simt aceasta conexiune cu ea. O iubesc. Multumesc.

Chiar am simtit gratitudine imediat dupa ce m-am lasat sa simt iubire si desi am evitat spontaneitatea de a scrie…am uitat complet ideea desi mai devreme era cea mai intensa chestie.

It feels like I go on so many journeys because it always ends up feeling like home. And that is why empathy is important.

Have I told you I have it all? Only hardly. Always hardly. It’s like I let it have me rather; rather both at the same time, really.

Am un insight cu o chestie ce ai zis-o, ca “e bine sa te uiti asa lung in departare”, o corelez cu explorarile asupra proiectiilor. Cred ca e sanatos sa faci asta si din punctul asta de vedere. Iti elibereaza tensiuni, iti da refresh. Cand ajungi de proiectezi mult mi se pare ca awarenessul devine tot mai strans, devii self aware, iar toate simturile acopera o arie tot mai mica cu tine in centru. Văz, auz. Sau te face sa nu prinzi que-uri sociale. O sa te mai tin la curent. Pe de alta parte, cand esti intr-o stare te uiti in sus vezi un corp astral si faci proiectie astrala. Si cuprinzi un intreg atat de mare incat simti ca te potrivesti.

Stii ce e cel mai torturant la zona Sona? Experienta ca stii toate piesele puzzle-ului, stii si raspunsul, si nu numai ca nu il poti rezolva, dar tocmai conditia ca stii te impiedica.

But what does isolation bring? I now know more about traveling and what it means, what is made of, and what it can teach us. I know it’s addictive.

Soon enough I will come to terms that I need a crew. Laniakea, here I come.


Come on in, take a seat next to me. You know we got, we got what you need. We may be liars preaching to choirs but we can sell your dreams. You don’t need sympathy. They got a pill for everything. Just take that dark cloud, ring it out to wash it down, but, don’t pray for us. We don’t need no modern Jesus. To roll with us. The only rule we need is never giving up. The only faith we have is faith in us.

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