Straight from the heart...

He knows that no one is coming to save him. He must save himself. He will try anything, go anywhere, in his quest for the truth. For the Holy Grail. He commits himself unreservedly to the greatest cause of all - to discover the innermost secrets of creation. And only one person possesses those secrets: the universe. And that is his sacred and infinitely inspiring quest - to become the universe itself. He wants to be the worlds superman. He has no limits, he bows to no false prophets, he needs no ancient books full of rules and commandments and silly parables and stories. All he wants is everything. 

Astronaut in the ocean...

And I do. I do wonder, I think about it all the time. What it will it be like when I die. Because no one can really give me a definite answer, and I still can't tell the difference, I'm never quite certain whether or not I'm actually alive. I sit here every single day. Run, I say to myself. Run until your lungs collapse, until the wind whips and snaps at your tattered clothes, until you're a blur that blends into the background.

Run, Karr, run faster, run until your bones break and your shins split and your muscles atrophy and your heart dies because it was always too big for your chest and it beat too fast for too long and you run. Run, run, run until you can't hear their feet behind you. Run until they drop their fists and their shouts dissolve in the air. Run with your eyes open and your mouth shut and dam the river rushing up behind your eyes. Run, Karr. Run until you drop dead. Make sure your heart stops before they ever reach you. Before they ever touch you. Run, I said.

Leave the door open...

A long-stem rose...

I love you. I couldn't pinpoint what made me so certain, but I knew it then, as surely as I knew my name or the color of the sky or any fact written in a book. Could you feel it, too? These thoughts made me so damn happy all of sudden, the way you kept going around and around. I am damn near bawling, I swear. I feel so ecstatic, if you want to know the truth. I don't know why. It was just that you looked so damn nice, the way you kept going around and around, ever so often throwing a look my way, as if to say something only we could understand. God, I wish this could last forever.

For your ribbons and bows...

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded,

everybody rolls with their fingers crossed.

Everybody knows the war is over,

everybody knows the good guys lost.

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking,

everybody knows that the captain lied.

Everybody talking to their pockets,

everybody wants a box of chocolates,

and a long-stem rose.

That's how it goes,

everybody knows.

Everybody knows that you live forever...

Do you ever feel like you are giving far fewer fucks and yet still caring so much it sometimes seems like there is only the most tissue-thin layer separating your soul from this world? Like your heart may be broken but your spirit is still rising? Do you ever walk on purpose even when you have nowhere to go? Do you notice things deeply, like the way whiskey burns at the end of the day? Are you claiming your identity, clear and strong and true, and also sinking into the vast unknowable mystery of your all? Do your days feel like longing and acquiescence and learning to stop grasping at things that are ready to leave or that choose not to come closer?

Do you finally know that you can choose a love and a life that does not break you? That you can claim a softer beauty and a kinder want. That even your animal hunger can soften its rough edges and say a full-throated yes to what is good and kind and holy. Do you remember that insanity is not a prerequisite for passion and that there is another pathway to your art, one that does not demand your pain as payment for its own becoming? Are you learning to show up? To take up space? To feel your power? Is it full of contradictions, does it feel like fire underwater, are you rising to roar?

Maybe a couple of hundred times...

Until one is committed, the universe is hesitant to offer aid. With the chance to draw back, there always comes ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have transpired. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius. It has power. It has magic.

I made up a story...

Reaping my harvest, planting new seeds...

All too often he feels separated and cut off from the world around him. Like an alien that fell from the sky. There were a few occasions, though, where he felt like the world really was a part of him. As if they were breathing as one and he so clearly saw into its core. He hopes he'll have that feeling again, and that next time it won't go away. That's a dim, misty outline of the story that's told so often, of how man once lived in a golden age or a garden of Eden ... how that world was lost, and how we some day may be able to get it back again. This story of the loss and regaining of identity is, perhaps, the framework of this thing that is not a blog.

This heart is true...

I'll take it up an elevation,

I'll stand on the highest peak,

you'll never doubt my dedication.

I'm here until eternity,

every time you order me

I'm gonna show you who I work for.

With you it's like I'm on vacation,

I'm right where I want to be.

Turning into a beast...

What had happened was this. When still quite young, I had gotten the idea from somewhere that I might be able to write. Maybe the deadly notion came from feeling so lost in the world that was presented to me, and wanting to create my own. Maybe I was in love with the image of being a writer - a fetishised decadence of a life full of pitfalls and ascents. Whatever the case, I have found recently that it had all been a really bad idea. Because, as a matter a fact, I'm not really a good story teller. My tales always seem to run in circles, with repeating patterns, mistakes and decisions. Quite boring actually. Surely missing a grand twist of some kind. 

I have come to find, that there are only two symptoms of enlightenment, just two indications that a transformation is taking place within me towards a higher consciousness. The first symptom is that I stop worrying. Things don't bother me as much anymore. I become light-hearted and full of joy. Or at least something similar to it. The second symptom is that I encounter more and more meaningful coincidences in my life, more and more synchronicities. And this accelerates to the point where I actually get to experience the miraculous. Even in something as frivolous as your smile.

Back in blood...

Through mountains and valleys...

When at a crossroads, my grandmother was fond of saying "go with your gut". “Intuition,” she said, “always has our best interests at heart.” It is a voice that can tell us who is friend and who is foe. Which ones to hold at arm’s length. And which ones to keep close. But too often, we become distracted by fear, doubt, our own stubborn hopes, and refuse to listen. We may not have any substantial reasons why we feel a certain way about something or someone, but that feeling we get in the pit of your stomach that causes us to hesitate has a purpose. Unfortunately, we tend to think either with our heads or our hearts, and simply forget about our gut. Ignore it one too many times and you end up paying the consequences.

May there be falls or ascents...

Heartbreak anniversary...

And it don't matter to me,

wherever we are is where I want to be.

And Honey, for once in our life,

let's take our chances and roll the dice

I can be your lucky penny, 

you can be my four-leaf clover -

starting over.

Work now, cry later...

Sometimes in life, a strange thing happens: we get the chance to reinvent ourselves. Our new self has the ability to draw on the strengths and experiences of the old self, but without the constraints and limiting beliefs that held us back. When this opportunity arrives, we have a choice to make. We can use it as a springboard to greater things. Dreams become goals, and goals become a series of checkpoints along the way. As we achieve the goals and approach the dreams, new dreams appear on the horizon. Or, of course, we can let the opportunity pass us by. That's why it's a choice: take it or leave it. Or in my case, force it in.