diary, identity, poetry

THE DiViNE BOAR

And I don’t know why but I feel there is nothing called gravity, at least not the way we are fed. I see the world upside down (I know many see it this way, but I mean it), as if my feet are the top most part of my body and the head, well… This… Continue reading THE DiViNE BOAR

Advertisements
identity, life, soul

THE BEGiNNiNG

  And, thus, under the ceiling of his room, with eyes open wide as the ocean, shining brighter than the sun, lay Kashiv. "This, then, is where people come to live; I'd have thought it more of a place to die.", the first lines of Rilke's , The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, unsettled Kashiv.… Continue reading THE BEGiNNiNG