amsterdam

there is peace of mind
and then there is an
inner peace,
which requires no mind

thoughts will tug
at your being
while desire
becomes entrapment

until the drain is
stuffed with
cognitive
back hair

that which is unthinkable
is not yet unimaginable


we ride a tidal wave of young blood out of amsterdam.
travelers, it seems, are existentially bound;
lives in parallel. i love the wanderer, the wayward soul, the keyhole whistlers - some people never stop living until they're truly dead.

our inordinate passion to wholly experience life, our lives, is what keeps us young at heart and wise in thought. propelled by some kinetic faith, we hop the first train out of town and let our potential energy cascade into the world.

Erik en de gekte voorbij-onze werkelijkheid