And so it ends.

An end to another chapter.
And I have all the time in the world to wonder...and ponder...because I do not know.

Oresteslove and else.

Orestes came to visit today and we played strip scrabble. Only got to taking two socks off on Orestes' side and one sock on my side but still it was a good game.
I miss Orestes.
He told me that I should write a children's book. And so I shall. It's kind of disappointing that my poems seem like they wouldn't have made it further than the short people's audience but maybe it is better this way. This way, perhaps, my inner need to change the world will actualize itself...through unconscious processes I shall make children grow into good people.
I think that is somewhat of a praiseworthy idea.
I will ask Orestes to illustrate it.
And i will ask my mum to write a poem about her cats.

A message without a title.

I wish I coud write.
It's not a writer's block or anything like that (oh dear, suddenly a thought of Paul Sheldon and Annie Wilkes from Stephen King's Misery happened to occurr in my mind--)...
I want to write. I want to paint. I want to do things that liberate my spirit.
One week to go. Only one week of having to do things for having to do them.
I am not deluding my self (can imagine sadoes reminding me of real life and one's 'compulsory' duties one has to fulfill in order to survive)-
...but this indeed IS the end to unwanted things.
It is not only imaginary freedom waiting for me.
I managed to steal a glimpse of the world and I now know not to send my soul fighting in meaningless battles.

I can not wait for the fullness of existence, I can not wait to see the sparkling stars in the skies--even when covered in clouds, to share the humid air of the unknown paths, I can not wait to see, hear, smell and taste and understand.