There comes a day when you are listening to music, alone, and you realise that you are where you have to be. That all the -isms are not for you. That you will follow your own path or no-path. That the desire for completion is just a not-here. A day when you realise you have…
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The shackle on one sideAnd your heart on the other, meanwhile, bleedsAnd the beggar always by your sideYour fellow travellerWhen the stars will fadeYou will come too Héroes del Silencio, The stranded mermaid I always saw the beggar, all beggars, as leeches trying to feed on others, on me. Trying to take what I had…
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Why do we want what we want? One day we discover a new hole that wasn’t there before, a gap we need to fill, a want. It becomes a need we must satisfy. I don’t mean wanting water when one is thirsty, but the other things we want, the ones that look like choices. What…
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Why do we write? I sometimes wonder whether reaching out to everybody through online platforms is the same as reaching out to no one. It must be the same with writing a book, I guess. The writer pours their heart on a few pages for all to see, for some to take in, to mean…
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As I passed by the flat of one of my neighbours, I remembered that someone died alone there a few years ago and took weeks to be found. Months later, a young couple moved in. Now their toddler’s toys were spread in front of their door, illustrating our inevitable cycle of life and death with…
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Aren’t all the songs the same song? Aren’t all the books the same book? What I find in them, isn’t it what I need each time? Doesn’t my unconscious project what my conscious ego needs to see? My brain carefully selects the words I need to hear and removes the rest, which are no longer…
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I look at the horizon sometimes, mesmerised at the fact that I can see something I will never be able to reach. I remember it took me some time as a child to grasp the concept. I kept asking where exactly that ‘horizon’ was, as if it were a geographic spot and I needed the…
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To me, nothing symbolises the ephemeral life like music. We can frame light and colour in a photograph, in a painting, but we cannot retain a melody. Music comes to us, touches our soul and leaves. Like those subtle notes in Beethoven’s fifth piano concert. They come, float casually in the air and leave. Like…
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I am in a train. I can see the outside world changing. Day, night, rain, sun, clouds, trees, unending concrete cities, a mountain. A succession of images outside. Inside, I remain still. From my perspective, I do not move. I am not surprised that Man once thought that the planet where it dwells was the…
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I don’t know what the title means, it just came to my mind. ‘Yes’ seems so invasive, so active, so demanding. ‘No’ means to stay with myself, peace, nothingness. ‘Yes’ is outside. ‘No’ is inside. I have as a desktop image a photograph of a path in the forest, full of bluebells (here it is,…
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The Introverted Tree 