The only well-kept secret is a forgotten one.
Kreo of the Day #3
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Kreo of the Day #2
Would you ever trade a diamond for a stone? Yes, when the stone is in your kidney.
Similar but Different
A small poem about words that can sound Similar but mean Different things: recent vs. resent, patients vs. patience, lose vs. loose, peace vs. piece, coarse vs. course, insight vs. incite, recent vs. resent, lesson vs. lessen, sole vs. soul, device vs. devise, seize vs. cease, intents vs. intense, and waist vs. waste.
Your recent patients
Resent your patience,
You lose the peace
A too loose piece,
A coarse insight
To a course to incite,
A recent lesson
To resent and lessen,
A sole device
For a soul to devise,
You must seize your intents
To cease the intense
Pain around your waist
And time to waste.
The Cure – Chapter One: Cure – Part One : Sanatorium – Self-diagnosis
Doc, I caught myself on the verge of awakening the beast. It feeds out of any emotional vibration, poisons my empathy reservoir, infests my intellect vessels, and eats my morality cells. The beast is taking over. The humanity is stripped away from myself. I am either a vulnerable dog waiting for the affectional bone, or a cornered cobra ready to strike any shadow of light. I can be a rat in a maze but never in a cage. I need the illusion of choosing my path. I left Julio six months ago because I was afraid, and today I put myself in sanatorium.
She stops, fear takes over her face, while listening with her whole being:
I’m here, I’m here
Hanging in the tree
Waiting for you
To bring my feast.
Do you hear the song doc? The beast is awake. Arianna starts screaming and banging her head against the wall. Out, I want you out of my head.
“Ray, Is the virtual brain ready? Hurry up,” says the doc. ”Please sit down Arianna.”
“Virtual brain successfully downloaded. Initiating the startup scenario,” says Ray.
Kreo of the Day #1
Each mortal creature counts on absurdity to escape habitualness.
A piece of broken marriage
I cut myself in a piece of broken marriage.
I bled for years, almost I lost my hope. One day I took the courage to deeply push into my past of you, and clean it all.
I amputated who I was. I woke up today, a fragile prostate of tomorrow, to walk my way.
Her perspective
You gave me light, you brought me life, I’m here for you until I’ll melt and die. I’ll keep you company with my flame, I’ll dance for you as much as I can, in rounded shapes, from left to right, maybe some wind will help me out. I put my best fragrance on me, to fresh the air around you. Just move me slightly in a spot so I can feel your skin touching my wax. And all my oily body texture will last, in your sensory mind, after the dark conquer my bright. By tomorrow I’ll disappear, so stay with me, don’t leave the room, you are the one for which I am, and I’m afraid.
Last night I waxed my …
Last night I waxed my past; I pulled my stories out from my clouded memories, and dumped them on bluish sheet of paper facing me. All I needed was the brightness of a flame, riding a candle, pouring into a soul more acute at night. I was worried about the pain, so I used a red wine based topical solution, just to numb fear.
The crack of dawn flanked a tired candle, a broken bottle and a piece of paper torn to bits. Tonight I’ll wax again.
Who am I?
I’m a fermentation of knowledge sold as wisdom by a drunk intellect, a box of desires kept under a cold pillow, a cry and a smile of a forgotten child, a triumph of past in the moment, a division of flesh squashed by the wave of time, a mystic dream whipped by awareness.
Or maybe I’m not. Otherwise just a concept, a definition of a complex human being drifted away from the flow of words.