Talk about maps and directions; what the Homeless Man was saying made me feel completely disoriented. I didn’t even know where to start with everything he was saying.
“We’ll get there,” he said. “Your best bet is to not try to understand literally what I am saying, you’ll end up getting even more confused. Instead, just feel what I’m saying and keep all the positive information, the rest just get rid of it. It will all come back to you when you need it,” he said with a soothing voice.
We came to a stop in front of a huge wall. It was rich in textures, lines, shape, geometry, abstraction and layers of skins. I ran my hand through parts of it – I felt such a deep connection to it. I wanted to caress it with my spray-paint.
“This is you,” the Homeless Man said.
“Oh, this is the wall I should make my own doorway back to my home?” I asked.
“Well, yes, but this is you. You are sitting here at the moment,” he said.
“It’s my back, we are looking at my back!” I exclaimed.
I ran to the palm of my giant sized hand. There were so many lines, trails and roads to choose from. Usually I would get anxious and nervous by the sight of so many routes. This time though, I felt my way through. I started to understand what the Homeless Man was saying earlier – less thought more feeling. I began to run towards the line of life while observing and experiencing the other lines.
“Go on, you must find your father now. You’ll have plenty of time to clarify your connection with yourself. At this moment in time, your brother and God’s given right to the universe are in danger – that which is positive creativity,” the Homeless Man yelled from a distance.
∞
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“We’ll get there,” he said. “Your best bet is to not try to understand literally what I am saying, you’ll end up getting even more confused. Instead, just feel what I’m saying and keep all the positive information, the rest just get rid of it. It will all come back to you when you need it,” he said with a soothing voice.
We came to a stop in front of a huge wall. It was rich in textures, lines, shape, geometry, abstraction and layers of skins. I ran my hand through parts of it – I felt such a deep connection to it. I wanted to caress it with my spray-paint.
“This is you,” the Homeless Man said.
“Oh, this is the wall I should make my own doorway back to my home?” I asked.
“Well, yes, but this is you. You are sitting here at the moment,” he said.
“It’s my back, we are looking at my back!” I exclaimed.
I ran to the palm of my giant sized hand. There were so many lines, trails and roads to choose from. Usually I would get anxious and nervous by the sight of so many routes. This time though, I felt my way through. I started to understand what the Homeless Man was saying earlier – less thought more feeling. I began to run towards the line of life while observing and experiencing the other lines.
“Go on, you must find your father now. You’ll have plenty of time to clarify your connection with yourself. At this moment in time, your brother and God’s given right to the universe are in danger – that which is positive creativity,” the Homeless Man yelled from a distance.
∞
Page 32