log.

Ah, the morning. Woke up in sweat – again. Watching the light of a new sun crawl through this narrow sanctuary of mine, a bright, glowing spot on its path through this calm darkness like a small personal sun orbiting around the center of a pocket size universe. Tried to put down a few notes, to keep some of last nights dream images from vanishing… but didn’t succeed, a certain uncanny feeling all to remain, and to arise new thoughts.

Who am I, as I make my way through this world? Who am I to myself, to others? Living here in this quiet compartment, in a world of thoughts and imaginations, of visions and chaos and, to some extent, hopefully a certain creativity arising from that, yet a world of my very own, hard to be opened to anyone else but me? An old, clichy picture coming to mind – some sort of vampire? In a different, maybe abstract understanding, though: Connecting to people, conversation – pleasant and in-depth – being the bite to, then, drain them of all their thoughts, ideas, visions and conceptions of life, giving little (if any) in return but just carefully collecting all this mental fluids, carrying them over here, letting them become part of this worlds ever-present, ever-growing chaos? Moving on to someone else as soon as conversations start becoming more shallow, as silence starts to spread where, before, vivid and inspired communication used to be? Feeling like some kind of deceiver, being around while things are inspiring, to at least mentally sneak away, search for new challenges as soon as things get more quiet rather than providing back something, offering some part of my own world, now giving my part to filling silence with new, inspired life again?

There’s always too many questions, eventually… way too many to have them answered in early mornings…