Unknown beauty, sleeping, calmly breathing
Next to me
Turn around and there is nothing apart from imagination
Breathing, sleeping calmly, unknown beauty
Soft his fingertips on my upper lip
On my upper lip soft his fingertips
Walking down the imaginative landscapes, getting caught in the armpit, exempt from doubts, just climbing the bewildered mountains, following the satin path and drowning eagerly into the sea of sensuality and delight.
Just like this during the daylight. 2 o’clock in the afternoon while outside this passionate filled place, people are walking up and down, filled handbags.
A glance of the eye spies her lipstick, a packet of chewing gum against the bad breath and her cigarettes. The box still showing marks from a night out. 078821410 call me.
Buzzing headaches and the usual lack of memory. Call Jim, John or Keith. Or was it Jade she went to school with during her 1st year in Blackpool Junior School? Mhh…never mind move on to the picturesque colours of yellow, green and red- peppers from Holland and juicy tomatoes, next to the red and ocker painted apples and the leak withered at the ends starting to become yellow.
Quickly rushing through the crowded market street and following the movement of people, listening to their conversations on events of the week passed. Yes Kate came over for the weekend from Birmingham together with her estranged husband. It is so lovely when the kids come back to the former home they left for a slice of apple pie and a cup of tea once every 2 years. At least they write a card when they can’t make it. The other usual ones for Easter, Christmas and the birthday. If they do not forget you can expect one for Mothers Day as well- how lovely.
Meanwhile somebody else is catching the smell of grilled chicken and the sound of Bob in the ear…emancipate yourself from mental slavery. Cheers another pint downed, drowned the boredom, simmering down on a Saturday afternoon waiting for the evening and dawn to come.
Hours later my thoughts are carried away, out of this room through the cold window glass into cascading clouds, roaming above these endless roads people walked, passing the streams of imaginations people thought into the ocean of the dark, sliding, slipping away
Just the wind whirling up my hair, soft strokes my skin whit its cold touch but feeling warm inside when coming home. And crawling back underneath the blanket that is even warmer. A light smell of vanilla and perspiration. Moving a bit closer to feel your heated body and wolve into these strong arms. Vanish and disappear just for a fraction of an hour. Sensing that it is spring and everything starts to blossom.
Fran
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hmmm…reading the post by Boris about dreams as being an eclectic product of selective memories, I remembered a couple of dreams I had a while ago. I will write them on separate occasions so as not to bore anyone with a too lengthy post.
here we go:
I was in my home town, walking on the street just outside my house towards the city centre. After a short distance I noticed a tree on the right side of the street. This tree was medium in height and emanated a white luminescence. Also, there where disproportionately big flowers on this tree which looked a bit like lotus flowers. I stopped to admire this beautiful plant, when all of a sudden the tree dissolved in a myriad of white glowing dots, as taken away by the wind. They floated in a very harmonious way for some time until some of them grew in size, became clusters of white glowing dots and eventually materialized in a small flock of white glowing birds, doves to be precise. They followed me as I walked on down the street and finally sat down on a wall to watch me pass.
I awoke from the dream with a deep sense of gratitude for the beauty I was able to witness.
I’m sure what Boris says about dreams being a product of selective memories has its truth. The street I was walking on was taken from my memories. But what about the tree and the doves? And why, if dreams are just a random mixture of memories, do some of them have a special effect on us, sometimes even seem to have a special message for us, and in rare cases strike us to have a very deep meaning, that we can ignore, acknowledge or act upon.
It’s not my intention to take anyone on a metaphysical mind-boggling trip, but maybe, just maybe, our dreams are the golden tread that connects us with something deeper in us. Something that wants to talk to us AND uses our memories to translate complex meanings into digestible bits.
What do you think?
Mezcal
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My relationship to memories is rather ambivalent. I don’t really have anything personal against them, although they allow themselves to penetrate my thoughts without invitation and having the irritating habit to be memories of the unpleasant sort for the most part. But for mischievous as they might be, I still accept them as a part of me and see myself at the same time as a product of them. It can’t be all that bad after all.
Like my friend Boris says: I wonder where 99% of my memories got dumped. The Black Holes of Memory Kingdom? And I wonder why the most vivid ones of the remaining 1% are memories that I would rather put in the beloved ‘recycling bin’.
Of course there are good ones too, but inevitably they seem utterly powerless and without any impact if compared to the actual moment of happiness. Just a gray shadow of what once was a glorious and kaleidoscopic moment in our lives.
A wise man once said (I don’t remember his name) that 99% of humanity is either trapped in the past, reviewing and reviewing past experiences, or entangled in hopes and worries about the future. Only 1% (if we are lucky) lives in the present, the NOW. sad but true…
So, at this point I must say that I am not really a ‘past’ person. I’m rather a ‘future’ kind of guy…often worried about what might happen and afraid to take important decisions. I rarely evoke past memories because I can’t really get any pleasure in recalling them.
but still…I have my share of memories…and the one I would like to share here is not only the most vivid and the most extraordinary of them all, but it happens to be also a happy memory, a memory of a moment that changed my life forever.
Continue reading ‘Memory Garden’
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A memory I’d like to share. On 13 Aug 2007, 1:42:08 UTC, PrimeGrid’s Woodall Prime Search found the 32nd and largest known to date (712818 digits long) Woodall prime:
2367906*22367906-1
Isn’t it amazing? I came across it yesterday by a chance, and recognized it should be a number of a big importance indeed. This number really hit me, I still can’t get it out of my mind, and that’s why I publish this post. If you wonder what is Woodall prime anyway, as I did, you can check a link here. I didn’t really understood it’s practical use, but was hooked by this numbers beauty. 712818 digits of this number and the value their represent are beyond my imagination, as a vast Universe, and yet so compact … like Einstein’s E=mc2, it’s simple and powerful.
This number, the last of 32 in total being discovered, comes under a name of gigantic twin prime, reminding me a name of a monster character from a trash sci fi movie, or a new discovered underwater species… A giant octopus took over my mind, and invaded it by numbers. Another detail that draw more attention was the precise, up to second timing of the discovery ( Aug 2007, 1:42:08 UTC). I haven’t seen anything like that before. Not in sports, in science for sure. It looked like from that moment on the world will never be the same.
Thinking about I copied and pasted it onto a blank page, and looked at it for a while mesmerized. I remember it by heart now, without taking any efforts to remember it.
On the contrary, I can’t remember my mobile number though it has 9 digits only and I have it for over a year… probably it’s not that important anyway.
Boris Kislitsin
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