...And Oceans The Symmetry of I - The Cirlce of O Mechanic hippie what are these penetrating colors of this soundscaping noisefloor ? is this the old empty future or the black electric nature ? colors circulate inside of 0 ambient mind, the overdose (...and I was injected with silence) are we all elastic worms in this red tekknostorm ? are there any energetic atoms in this paradoxical zone? can the relapse of spasms be the rhythm of this dance? is this the neo-cultural spacetrip or the perpetual trancegrip? is the echo a shadow of presence or a soundtrack for nOnexistance are the voices orchestral nightmares or synonyms to black and white faces ? colors circulate inside of 0 ambient mind, the overdose (...and along came the spasms) are we all elastic worms in this Tekknostorm ? aquarium of children - ajatusten merenpinta like stones in silence I stand as I draw circles in the sand naked under blue grass drowned I watch children dance >>in a mind of an echo<< (I know that I am I, if and only if I believe that I am I) I float to the distance to eat the horizon I cut the sunbeams the day before tomorrow tranceform the time to a silent history run under water in eternal serenity ...is it easy to run under water? ...is it easy to paint without colors? I float to the distance to eat the horizon I cut the sunbeams the day before tomorrow tranceform the time to a silent history run under water in eternal serenity (if I would've been the other I and if I would've wanted to be the other I then I could've been I) It's easy to run under water It's easy to paint without colors >>as an echo in the mind<< The black vagabond and the swan of two heads still the fields are in motion not as pictures but as time hunting the white plague in the absence of my body I watch myself drown in the blue aura of mine and I see the swans leave the pond but still the words circle around my head like flies the gnashing marble teeth were disturbing my slumber and there I was in the middle of a game called chess but my vagabond initiated the process yet the fields are in motion not as time but as clouds falling as silver rain and washing away the heavy blood the gnashing marble teeth were disturbing my slumber and there I vas in the middle of a game called chess but my vagabond initiated the process sålipsism - extraction from O'Mindiary when I was younger (a naive christian with thoughts like melting sugar) my fingers were attacked by nails and I could hear the voice of J.C. screaming under my skin, trapped like a slave in my flesh. This was in those days when water flew in my veins, the rain kept on pouring inside my head and I denied & killed him (not with scissors nor knives, but with the inner muscles of my torso). The rumor says that the bastard was raped by the cross, but maybe he was a hermaphrodite who raped himself. ... det vitala med perpetuella varandet är att vara transparent existerande... I understood that this mental traffic was a new symbol burned in my mind, like planets in orbit around me I was standing in the centre with the sun in my pocket thinking : existence is an illusion, mankind will face the mushroom cloud, but I am I, the ultimate gOd. baby blue doll - merry gO mind I (even if I should be in plural) am the singular dimension the repeated phrase of a lost section where the circle (the actual box of colors) is completed the mindjourney, the merry gO mind draw the lined in water - divide the innerworld inside the outside of the merry gO mindstop I (...and not the others of I) painted the words to a context, a mind absurd to curse the falling star with the baby blue doll under my arm draw the lines in water - divide the innerworld inside the outside of the merry gO mindstop we (the division of I) paint with eyes the parade of the air from a transparent perspective: we are the spheres feel the warm magma inside in veins the stream of honey colors ascend to the mind I greet the blue harmony ...only then I (...and not the singular I) will believe in the empty shadows, but... äcid sex and marble teeth (You-phoria) ...and still I dream about the colors or was it smoke that surrounded my thoughts when i was sitting in my garden that black Monday (momentaaninen pimeys, melankolian iäisyys) brought flowers and silence, but that sunshine is in another aspect nothing but a verbal virus when I welcome the clouds... sub specie aeterni I still am the mechanic hippie and the outside is reflected inside me... well am I the shadow of myself, coz I really don't believe in the empty shadows (but when I believe then and only then I believe that I am not I) but it's nice and relaxing to stand naked by the window watching heaven's children falling as rain (samalla kun piirtelen viivoja veteen ajatusten merenpinta laskee alle normaalitason) ... but after all take what is needed, so children forget heaven... I wish I was pregnant what if the case was... the candle is burning once again like the faces of black and white children ...the girl in every man... a long abortion is what life is long as a shadow filled with emptiness like the shadow of a shadow life is fading away like a dying flower if I could I would rape myself if I was pregnant I'd give birth to myself and my own death ...the man in every girl... innocent (innOceant) and young swallowing myself and the inner sun (son) like the shadow of a shadow life is fading away like a dying flower ...but that's not the case yet, or...