spy4me
2011-02-03, 16:29
here i’am, sharing the ground with my many-sided theories and perspectives about life, every drop of ink traces in the white paper of my note-book expands and forms a line, many lines like a web, overlapping, complex, but enjoyable to some extent, because it makes me think again, a thorough conflict, does this make sense?
They told me that i was born in Friday 5 July, my elder brother called me “ALI”, my mother suggested another name, however, my brother insisted, i was a typical boy, but with the delusion of grandeur, or as they told me, i always thought i would live a normal life with full of concrete items in my mind’s list, but here i’am once more, living in my own world where everything is abstract, except my pen, my pen?! Do i have really a pen?! No absolutely! Does this make sense?!
A friend of mine told me a dream or let’s say a nightmare, he was in a labyrinth trying to find his way out,; and when he did so, the light got farther and farther, a sudden voice called him from inside, was it his voice? He didn’t know, actually who could? Anyway who cares? “ i know that this is a dream, but how can i wake up?” that makes me wondering: could this be a real life? Or just pictures which are fed from our imagination, everything is blurred and seem to not come to an end, and this leads me to be a static character in one of Shakespeare plays or Charles dickens novels, does this make sense?
Now i know what “ALI” means; Abstract Life Images.
They told me that i was born in Friday 5 July, my elder brother called me “ALI”, my mother suggested another name, however, my brother insisted, i was a typical boy, but with the delusion of grandeur, or as they told me, i always thought i would live a normal life with full of concrete items in my mind’s list, but here i’am once more, living in my own world where everything is abstract, except my pen, my pen?! Do i have really a pen?! No absolutely! Does this make sense?!
A friend of mine told me a dream or let’s say a nightmare, he was in a labyrinth trying to find his way out,; and when he did so, the light got farther and farther, a sudden voice called him from inside, was it his voice? He didn’t know, actually who could? Anyway who cares? “ i know that this is a dream, but how can i wake up?” that makes me wondering: could this be a real life? Or just pictures which are fed from our imagination, everything is blurred and seem to not come to an end, and this leads me to be a static character in one of Shakespeare plays or Charles dickens novels, does this make sense?
Now i know what “ALI” means; Abstract Life Images.