art

Ultima essence diving with turtles, Ocean teacher, a born hungry ghost.
neverending Saffron revolution
Writing enraged, furiously, following the drama of mankind. Don’t mix hate for anger. One is allowed to be angry, why not allow hate? There are similarities in terms of negative feelings and deeds, but hate is to destroy.
Maybe the ways of revealing and stating hate, hate against the opposite, against the weak, different. Hate against for whatever reason are more multiple and more out in the open than ever before. Therefore I conclude that the amount of hate possibly has not increased, but the ways of getting heard and noticed are more diverse, constantly variable and accessible and those who have strong views on how world should be constructed are loud.
I have to think about this, because this is about emotions which rule how we behave. I too say I hate something and I can enjoy for saying it. But in the end I do not enjoy hating. It eats me up if I feel hate. Rage is a leading force in me still. It is dangerous and delightful. What are the distinctive differences what comes to emotions?
Crisis everyday yesterday and today. Nature will solve them in its own way. How do we solve them? What kind of responsibility do we have?
Heavy winds. Nature of crisis. Is it an attitude question how we measure and define what is the quality of a disaster? For who and what has happened. The scale of downfall, accident or deliberate ill doing. What kind of catastrophes are we expecting since it is before our eyes, the worst ever in plural form and complexity. Disposable I love u’s and have a-nice-days. Get a new one.
Nature is in crisis always, at the brink of chaos. We like to rock the boat even further. It will grow back, nature. How long does it take for plastic to be decomposed? I repeat because it cannot be emphasized enough. We are what we produce and use, we like things to elevate us. It is also the key to the fantasy world of products and services made with sellable images. And how we produce. How indeed.
Sermon for Easter. This garbage is u. Don’t u forget it.
For those who have no one
Love is always there in the air. It is there to be grabbed. As much as one can, but does one grab air, what is there. Persuasion, seduction, grabbing, taking, touching, trying to get hold of it, the feeling and own it, because it feels good.
It is a cruel thing to say, in a way, it is up to you.
To think, that affection, trust and caring would be available like a natural resource. They are, in a way,
natural and seen as human behavior to care. Is it to take advantage, ferociously, demanding one to flourish.
In a way, to love is an invented game of survival, complex plan of wanting to be wanted. Something to master and know, but still fail at it. Not be defeated by it. There is no direct path to get what one wants.
Something we are born to do constantly is want. What is to have no one? Who is one, anyone to have?
I am. I have me.
O u ou ou you got the best of my love
O u ou ou you got the best of my love
Everything is irritatingly misplaced
Two old ladies talking behind me in the bus about weather, ”how it is so warm today: ” how little green things are appearing, tulips and things like that”. Aroma of something burned. But I felt empathy and warmth in their wornout fragile voices which I liked. I felt sun through the glass. Microg. and chewable tablets.
