FINDING LOVE THROUGH A WORMHOLE
We all have strange thoughts, right? Well let me share this with you.
It's 02:21 in the morning, I'm outside. Walking.
I do this every night to keep me thinking, to challenge my brain. Just walking, stopping. Saving notes. I not long ago I approached a hill right at the end of the runway / airport I live by. It fascinates me watching these huge planes fly right over my head, then slowly rotating my body down the hill to watch it fly away into the distance. Until I can't see it anymore. I smile, laugh. They look like little toys in the sky, so small. Though I bet I'd say the same if I was up there..
Nights like this always sprout from the struggle of understanding myself. It's crazy to think my brain is the soul of my existence. My body is just there to test it. Tweak it into moving myself through life.
It made me think.
Everyone you see, you can't read because you're just looking at their bodies. Your judgment is from how they operate, how they inhale their cigarette. How a person grips onto a picture of someone they're mourning. The way a person's facial expression shows emotion. Crying, smiling. But when it's blank, what do you read?
Now, imagine this.
The myth is, everyone has a soul.
You can't find it anywhere, you can't have it cut out of your body. A soul is everything you are, and when you die it leaves you (or so they say). I've always imagined a soul to be a beam of colour and light. Like when you leak ink into clear water. Exactly like a wormhole in space.
So as I'm lying here, looking at the stars, on black canvas.
Imagine this.
How beautiful would it be if all walks of life were a representation of the stars and the wormholes they clash through. So you couldn't actually see a person anymore, it was just this beam of light. No words, nor bodies. Just beams of light all clashing into eachother finding out personalities through clashing. A never-ending black canvas of colour and light, they linger on and never settle until they find their soul mate. It's like taking out the eyes of humanity and using their personalities as perfume. All crossing paths with sense of smell. On this idealistic black canvas though, life is just beams of light. Leaving trails of their true colours behind them. Swirling through one another. They find themselves through finding someone else, then they can settle. Blending into a more dominant gleam of light. Purity at its truest definition.
It's such a pleasure to cross paths.
Clashing through so many paths of life, so much colour and light.
I see through them all, and they're all so bright.
But you're brighter than all of the others.
- Wake. I'm in the material world now. Planet Earth.
It's sad to think one day I will clash with this ideal soul, but the model and sculpture of their body is the main judgment of whether it's meant to be. I wish space was a representation of how all walks of life could seek their soul mates. The idea of everyone's head, the brain of people all opened up and morphed into this beam of light. Ready to cross paths, with no judgment. Except for their frame of mind.
It was a pleasure to cross your path, but back in the material world.. your genetics tell me otherwise.
We all search on.
It's 02:21 in the morning, I'm outside. Walking.
I do this every night to keep me thinking, to challenge my brain. Just walking, stopping. Saving notes. I not long ago I approached a hill right at the end of the runway / airport I live by. It fascinates me watching these huge planes fly right over my head, then slowly rotating my body down the hill to watch it fly away into the distance. Until I can't see it anymore. I smile, laugh. They look like little toys in the sky, so small. Though I bet I'd say the same if I was up there..
Nights like this always sprout from the struggle of understanding myself. It's crazy to think my brain is the soul of my existence. My body is just there to test it. Tweak it into moving myself through life.
It made me think.
Everyone you see, you can't read because you're just looking at their bodies. Your judgment is from how they operate, how they inhale their cigarette. How a person grips onto a picture of someone they're mourning. The way a person's facial expression shows emotion. Crying, smiling. But when it's blank, what do you read?
Now, imagine this.
The myth is, everyone has a soul.
You can't find it anywhere, you can't have it cut out of your body. A soul is everything you are, and when you die it leaves you (or so they say). I've always imagined a soul to be a beam of colour and light. Like when you leak ink into clear water. Exactly like a wormhole in space.
So as I'm lying here, looking at the stars, on black canvas.
Imagine this.
How beautiful would it be if all walks of life were a representation of the stars and the wormholes they clash through. So you couldn't actually see a person anymore, it was just this beam of light. No words, nor bodies. Just beams of light all clashing into eachother finding out personalities through clashing. A never-ending black canvas of colour and light, they linger on and never settle until they find their soul mate. It's like taking out the eyes of humanity and using their personalities as perfume. All crossing paths with sense of smell. On this idealistic black canvas though, life is just beams of light. Leaving trails of their true colours behind them. Swirling through one another. They find themselves through finding someone else, then they can settle. Blending into a more dominant gleam of light. Purity at its truest definition.
It's such a pleasure to cross paths.
Clashing through so many paths of life, so much colour and light.
I see through them all, and they're all so bright.
But you're brighter than all of the others.
- Wake. I'm in the material world now. Planet Earth.
It's sad to think one day I will clash with this ideal soul, but the model and sculpture of their body is the main judgment of whether it's meant to be. I wish space was a representation of how all walks of life could seek their soul mates. The idea of everyone's head, the brain of people all opened up and morphed into this beam of light. Ready to cross paths, with no judgment. Except for their frame of mind.
It was a pleasure to cross your path, but back in the material world.. your genetics tell me otherwise.
We all search on.
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