The Philosophy Of Water

About the Book

One night as I lay upon my bed a thought took shape in my mind, and transcended me to a place sometime in the future, and as I looked thereabouts around me I could see the outer shells of hollow souls without their inner bodies, or perhaps the outline of spirits without their full embodiment or physical attributes, and it appeared to me that these were the shells of spirits of people, that were either still asleep or were at least waiting for their present bodies to align and catch up with, or waiting to fulfill their future embodiment. And so time stood still there, as they could not see or realize that I was amongst them, as if the future were somehow waiting for the past to catch up with itself, in order for them to be triggered back to life, as there was no night or day but they were more like shadows or silhouettes’ or ghost like statues standing still, as also I saw amongst them gold material possessions that shone brightly out of other grayish discarded materials that were either used or tainted objects, or were at least disposable consumerables, that were expired long ago , and as I began to wonder and realize that these shiny artifacts were somehow the newly awaiting symbolic objects and materials and possessions of tomorrow’s world, if indeed they were to come to life and fruition, or even if those of us who were present , were to gain them at all, in realizing that they were not yet acquired by any hands, and so as time stood still it appeared to me that in my witnessing this potential future prevailing, that I was to record what I had seen, or at least understood it to be, as if I had time travelled or ascended to a place in time connected with my own future in mind.

About the Author

As a writer and a poet and as an artist and performer, I have always felt the need to convey my thoughts through the artistic expression of words and music and even through the unspoken medium of movement and motion, as much as it is upto the creativity of a writer which is for me to capture or to record these moments as they unfold and take shape revealing their naked truths in the purest of forms of their suggestions and clues towards a revelation unknowingly becoming attuned and responsive to the reciprocal mind. As I have come to learn and engage in the process that the language and the words, also each independently have their own hidden inner depth when spoken, or as when heard or as when read, as each processed word proceeds one after the other, building a foundation, creating layer upon layer until their volume is felt. Whether I choose to promote this idea upon a line of questioning, or examining, or analyzing, a stand of truth by capturing a piece of reality, or whether I am entranced by the enchantment of something more sublime like a mystery, or a fantasy, is even somewhat inspirational to me as to how my thoughts of expression and energy are channeled through such a medium and a basic quality in challenging my ability to write paragraph after paragraph and page after page, until ordinarily the mundane of perfection of the subjective object is met and begins to excite me. As writing is also very much an internal journey towards understanding the inner self and examination of the reflective world that surrounds us all, insomuch that we are constantly redefining and readjusting to all that is apparently so and open to see, but as to whether we can learn to accept through interpretation of all that is extended before us, is also to glance in a mirror and to attempt to recognize if all is as it appears to be. As I also find that being a writer also has its’ holistic and therapeutic benefits in exploring and exercising one’s ability to understand and to comprehend the subject matter that is at hand, arising out of the consciousness, a bit like a jigsaw puzzle in need of being pieced and placed together in order to create and make sense out of theoretical chaos as such is the genie of out of the bottle in becoming a writer.