what is control
if you cant lose it
what is love
if you cant let it go
what is life
if you cant live it
cause life is love
and love is losing it
and all that matters is to
let things go
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Random Thoughts
was looking at the moon
sitting in the sky
i blinked but once,
it waas not there...
i looked for it all night long
never did think
of the stars, their
gentle glow
of the clouds, their
gentle flow
I raced through life
chasing a dream,
i looked away once
it was not there
i looked for it all night long
blinded by the moon
i missed the stars, the clouds
blinded by life
what did i miss
what did i miss ...
sitting in the sky
i blinked but once,
it waas not there...
i looked for it all night long
never did think
of the stars, their
gentle glow
of the clouds, their
gentle flow
I raced through life
chasing a dream,
i looked away once
it was not there
i looked for it all night long
blinded by the moon
i missed the stars, the clouds
blinded by life
what did i miss
what did i miss ...
Sunday, August 3, 2008
quest for space
We all want our space... But what is this 'space' that we are striving for ?
Standing there on the roof top that dark windy night, I saw the city - a vast expanse of twinkling lights merging with infinity. These lights represent the aspirations of a vast multitude of people; people of different cultures, races, shapes, thinking... - a vast multitude, living in a system a million times more complex than the bee hive.
This evening, as probably all evenings, millions of this city have got back home, that retreat from the battering of daily life, the bombardment of millions of emotions just like the innumerous photons from the sun. The bombardment of thoughts and ideas; a maelstorm of feelings, emotions sounds and thoughts.
Our quest for space has conditioned us to look for it within our four walls. The aspirations of millions of billions in this world is, to own that little space hemmed in by four walls. The space that gives us solace, that supposedly blocks the bombardment, the space that we can call ours and will protect us from all external stimulus
This conditioning has been so good that we never stop to ask the question, "does it?".... maybe space is all about you and what your mind can claim as space. Think of that guy in his jeans, t shirt, and backpack; sitting on the ground, leaning against that bright whitewashed column , staring into space, his head shaking to some music oblivious to the thousands that stream past him in different directions and in different moods, some happy to return home some sad to be leaving it, some foccussed on an event in the near future - a mixture of race in some busy airport. He has found his space and maybe his space has no walls
Standing there on the roof top that dark windy night, I saw the city - a vast expanse of twinkling lights merging with infinity. These lights represent the aspirations of a vast multitude of people; people of different cultures, races, shapes, thinking... - a vast multitude, living in a system a million times more complex than the bee hive.
This evening, as probably all evenings, millions of this city have got back home, that retreat from the battering of daily life, the bombardment of millions of emotions just like the innumerous photons from the sun. The bombardment of thoughts and ideas; a maelstorm of feelings, emotions sounds and thoughts.
Our quest for space has conditioned us to look for it within our four walls. The aspirations of millions of billions in this world is, to own that little space hemmed in by four walls. The space that gives us solace, that supposedly blocks the bombardment, the space that we can call ours and will protect us from all external stimulus
This conditioning has been so good that we never stop to ask the question, "does it?".... maybe space is all about you and what your mind can claim as space. Think of that guy in his jeans, t shirt, and backpack; sitting on the ground, leaning against that bright whitewashed column , staring into space, his head shaking to some music oblivious to the thousands that stream past him in different directions and in different moods, some happy to return home some sad to be leaving it, some foccussed on an event in the near future - a mixture of race in some busy airport. He has found his space and maybe his space has no walls
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