(Out and) About

“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.” ~Edgar Allan Poe


My mind likes to rocket off into space, onto the galaxy of poetry and prose, colliding against asteroid belts of words, occasionally stopping by other planets abundant with creativity, plucking off ideas from the scintillating stars, deeming to create my own planet with a lush verdancy of emotions, so that other people may be inclined to visit my humble world too.

My mind likes to grow wings and dash away, for the times I am bound to reality and could do nothing else to alleviate the gloom and ennui that hangs over my head like a cloud about to rain on my parade. That way I could rise above those grey clouds and bask in the warmth of the glorious yellow sunshine, so that it may be able to bless me with a peace of mind.

My mind likes to go into adventures, along with a sword of ink and a shield of paper, eradicating monsters that haunt my sanity, envisioning armies to protect my whim, making miracles happen, to save me from falling into a chasm of hopeless despondence and permanent melancholia. Pen is mightier than the sword, indeed.

My mind likes to be vespertine, let the soft tendrils of darkness envelop it, to embrace the shadows that slither and roam in every nook and cranny, to dance in the silence, to sing along to the loud and intoxicating haze of the fog, and to draw inspiration in the chromatic night skies, hung like a gargantuan obsidian tapestry above us all.

My mind likes not so much as writing, but simply scribbling meaningless strings of words and punctuation on blank spaces to fill my time, always hoping that they would make a drop of sense. And sometimes I get lucky.

My mind likes to step into portals leading to parallel words, alternate multiverses, infinite wormholes, time machines…and I’m probably procrastinating on more important yet unfinished work, in those times of indulging gracelessly in fantasy.

Welcome to a blog constituted by a cynical, nocturnal, idiosyncratic, non compos mentis, idealistic, overly-dramatic, and most of all, admittedly absentminded person. Enjoy your stay, and let your mind along with mine, fly away; through jubilance and doubt, through quintessence and clout, and out and about.


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