I fly to an oasis in the desert, below the sky, gazing at the silent desert. Disloyal oasis, beyond outlook, exists the indications within traversed determinations. The breeze is snatching sand grain away. I am stunned that the sanctuary is no longer here. I survive for something that nature cannot give, not me, not my past.
There was previously a sea that shifted without limitations. There existed a dry desert. My stories are worse than my sense; they are unfortunate. Sometimes, pause and stare help; obviously accomplishes nothing; no subsistence, pursuing a chapter of my energy, another verve that brings changes that were never lived. Another tribe, another sky, soon moved in and out from the desert.
This desert may never end, but this silent search for the desert may end. This movement may never stop. Still, this search for love will end with someone who has nothing to give but keeps giving the attention, as the sand from the desert, the dunes formed and keeps changing everything another day with the wind. I wonder where does this sand come from.
The current sounds, the isolated desert, and the full moon make the sand grain luminescence; these signals emit subtle expressions. This love is commercial. Your fascination is a call from that desert asking me to surrender and be taken away, the gust that motions dunes. I walk without my shoes; my feet are burning; I will never stop. These deserts keep telling me never to look back and; to keep moving. There will be a wind one day taking me to that oasis. Yet, I retain blinking that there exists no oasis.
Void is apparent, the moon as bulb filament prominent and solid; I am misplaced here; this wandering is unstoppable. When my time dawn upon me, I will present myself with a gift. This souvenir will take me to a stage where I will find some fresh opinions and break them over, just as the sand grains from my palm slide off. This gift will be lost in eternity. I will continue walking towards the unknown in the dunes, not looking for anything.
My eyes have become sharp; I can see far. This far is being observed from this I. The desert does not belong anywhere. It is there. The same day, I saw a reptile wanting to communicate with me. I observed the serpent passing no remark; the creature asked, " What are you doing here. I conceded I was walking by, nothing else. The animal doubted my intention and came after. As I strode unhurriedly, the creature took exact steps and exhibited how easily he emulated the entire universe. Discovering it was my shadow acting as a serpent visible only in the moonlight; a chill went through, and the universe made sense. Then the moon moved. I decided, ah, this will keep happening; let's go. The reptile slid back without any warning or any notice.
The night ended; I woke up with a dizzy feeling. Was it a dream? I found myself utterly thirsty half-naked in worn-out cloth. Every move I made took me an inch more profound in the sand. My eyes bruised, my lips dry. This sun is coming back. This friendship is over with the cool, warm moon. I stood up, having lost all the energy now, just looking at the pale yellow sky, creasing in with every glow of the sun. Watching from an eyes distance, there is a gap. This field is visible in some kind of drain, blood movements happening through the veins; that kind of subtle movement is closing in. As the movement snaps, I hear wind grinds blasting in my ear, cracking my nerves one at a time. Every second, there is a modulation of the wind sound that splits in two and appears from all directions, sounding like an animal asking for help that may never recover.
Everything paused, no movement for some time; the sky stood there; I began to breathe slowly and casually without any effort. A sudden rush of blood in the body, looking for ventilation, an upward movement. Then, there was a sand storm behind. I could see from far, I thought, I could get out of here, began to run away, quickly founding later, I could not run, these sand dunes, furnish the form to my movement, I lost control and slipped. Everything turned grey; I touched someone's hand; I felt my gestures were small, and I wanted to announce. Still, I could only hear cooing coming from my mouth; I found my lips were no longer dry; I was put in a basket that had mushy feelings. I thought for a moment, I am good, now everything is fine; it was a dream inside a dream. The desert could not trap me anymore; where did it all start?; Deep in deliberation, hands to hide from the light flashes, rays penetrating in bits and pieces, distributed all around, creating an elaborated pattern of movement that wind was splashing with leaves. At the same time, moving leaves between lights and my perception made me wonder if I was crazy or going crazy.
02.02.2022 — StoriesThere is no one except satya, but there is someone else
11.10.2021 —Book session for a